Intuition
by Bolinlover123
Summary: My take on a fic based on the anonymous promps by 'Ikkinthekitsune' Post book two :with the Spirits and humans now sharing worlds, some people have gained strange abilities, for better or for worse. Following these prompts, Bolin can see the future through visions-but it's not all it's cracked up to be when people die either way. "Poor Nyla. If only you would have played nice."
1. The Witness

Note: This is a fic based on _"ikkinthekitsune's" _anonymous prompts of Bolin having visions post book two, as the Spirits now share the Physical World. I was reading these prompts online on her blog, and as you can imagine, the Bolin Lover that I am, _I freaked out_! I was like akhfkarfahhahddha! I just had to do my own! So this is not my original idea, and all credit goes to _"Ikkienthesune"_

P.S My one-shot would probably make a little more sense if you read her anonymous prompts beforehand, but you get the general idea here. According to the prompts- and these are my own words- since the Spirits have been in the mortal world as part of the New Age, some people are gaining strange abilities, and our Bolin, well, yeah, he can see the future in visions. :/ He see's things involving the Spirits, and people who get caught up with them, dying. Sounds fun, right? Sometimes he and the Krew can prevent them from happening, other times...shit goes down and people die and get hurt and all that. Hey, I didn't request these badboys, nor did I write them. I am only a crazed fan obsessed with Bolin! Now, I will not tell you anymore about said prompts; if you want to go and read them, go right ahead, they are wonderful! This is my version of one!

(Actually, I probably will spoil the other prompts in this one, sorry. If you want to read those first, you can. But it really doesn't change anything, really.)

Warning: This story is rated **T** for a reason. To those who know my writing style, this is going to be very angsty and dark.

I am trying to make this a one-shot...a _long_ one-shot. May make it multiple chapters, and will make that clear at the bottom, if I chose that length.

Enjoy! :D

* * *

He's in town with his friends when it happens.

At first, his visions had started out only in his dreams, and were mostly painless and not very complicated. His first vision, however, unfortunately had not resulted without casualties, and left angry emergency crew workers' glares trailing behind him, and nightmares of vines swallowing him whole with screams that would never scream again.

With every vision he had, he kept trying to push the lingering feelings away. The nightmares he had no control over, but at least he could _try _to suppress and hide how each vision flashing across his eyes sucked his soul into someone else's body in the past or future, memories and feelings not his own crawling under his skin and into his mind. He could _try _not to cry in anguish as he saw a building full of people explode into a burst of heat and ash right after the detonator went off. He could_ try_ not to scream in pain and pass out as he felt a knife jab into the neck-the-was-his-but-someone-else's and leave him for dead.

He could _try_ to separate the feelings and pain in his visions, from himself. Tell himself that those people weren't him, that he wasn't guilty or responsible for saving them. Mako had said he was proud of him, that his visions could help people.

And if Bolin could _try_ to believe that, too, maybe things wouldn't have gone the way they did.

He's with Mako and Korra and Asami in the little shopping part of town that sells nice cakes and bak choy, _just because, _and food that smells like summer and makes the Fire Nation in him known. It's one of the hottest summers he can remember, and the way the sun is backing the pavement and dissipating the grease off the sidewalk, makes everything feel sticky. He's sweaty, and hungry, and glad this store has a freezer section because right now he kind of wants to stick his face in the big frosty thing and doesn't care what anybody says.

It one of those rare off days where Korra doesn't have training, Asami is taking off work, and apparently the air conditioning in the Police Station broke yesterday, making it hot enough for all the ink on the papers to melt together and make even_ never-miss-a-day-Cheif-Beifong_ surrender to mother nature and declare it be fixed by Monday.

He goes over and inspects the frozen dumplings and packs of organic noodles. Half contemplating buying some for dinner that he will only_ try_ to make himself eat, and half just wanting to go swim in the bay, he mulls over the possibilities of which dish would be easier to prepare. He tells himself thinking about the petty things will keep his mind from going to the dark places- or at least _tries_ to. Because Mako and the girls are getting worried, even if they don't verbally tell him so, but if he can seem as if he is choosing what to eat for dinner, then it is easier to hide the fact that he really can't seem to eat anymore without thinking of the people who will never eat again.

But he's trying not to think about all that.

It really isn't working.

He _feels_ it before he see it.

Somewhere is his vision, he catches the_ 'Missing'_ poster tacked onto the wall. In the middle of the paper, is a little girl-seven, maybe eight- smiling down at him. The poster reads she has been missing for two weeks so far, last seen getting off her school bus, towered home. Her innocent wide eyes and narrow chin are black and white from the glossy 15' by 15' inch print, but somehow he can tell her eyes are green-Earth Kingdom on her mother's side- and she has a bit of Water Tribe from her grandfather on her father's side, though she doesn't look it.

Like a puppet being pulled on a string, his hand goes up to touch the print, and the pads of his fingers lay flat over the girl's face. He feels his eyes roll back into his head as his eyesight goes out of focus, and he's trapped in someone else's body, memories not his own tugging at him.

_The little girl was running, running away and running fast._

_"Nylaaaaa...Nylaaaa..." the man was chasing after her, a crazed sound in his voice and murder in his eyes, "Come out, come out, wherever you are. Nylaaaa...What's the matter, Nyla? Don't you want to play with me?"_

_The girl cowered and ducked behind a couch, biting her tongue to keep from crying._

_"Come on, Nyla, I just want to play with you."_

_The man'__s breath stunk of cactus juice and his face was covered in old scars._

_"Nyla?" His beady eyes scanned the room, going back and forth. He looked behind the curtains, and scowled. "Where are you, you little shit?"_

_He punched a wall, and Nyla jumped, pinching her leg to stop herself from yelling. All she wanted was her mommy._

_He starts going into the other room, and she lets out a shaky sigh of relief. Nyla starts getting up slowly, slowly-but her elbow knocks into the little cheap radio, and it crashes to the ground with a thud._

_Nyla whimpers, and holds her breath as the sound of the man's clambering footsteps come closer, and he barges back into the room, face red and monstrous._

_"THERE YOU ARE!" He roars, and lunges for her. Nyla screams and kicks, but he gets her in his arms and __doesn't let go._

_His big meaty hands are around her throat, and her face is turning blue. She is clawing at his hands, but he squeezes tighter, until finally, her head bashes against the wall until it cracks with blood and her body is limp on the floor._

_The man smiles, "Poor Nyla. If only you would have played nice."_

There is screaming in his ears before he realizes that it's his friends' voices yelling his name frantically, mixing in with his own screams.

"Bolin! Bolin, snap out of it! Come on, bro! _Bolin!"_

There are hands on his arms as he flails and shudders and yells, and more voices calling his name, until he is shoved into someone's chest that has something soft and red around their neck, and his eyes finally snap open, darting around frantically.

He coughs and sputters and tries to talk and breathe all at once, but he grips Mako's shirt tightly, his shoulder's heaving. Tanned, and manicured hands are rubbing his head, pushing his hair out of his face as he gulps in air.

"That's it, bro...you're okay. Take it easy. Just breath..."

His vision comes back into full focus now- the store with its bright lights and rows of food, and people all looking at him with mixed expressions. His own friends and brother's faces are very concerned and scared and he shutters, gripping Mako's shirt. The people in the store- thank Agni there weren't many- look away from him now, and disperse when the lady at the counter rings the bell and says, '_okay, people, nothing to see here. Give them some space, come on._

The people grumble and whisper as they are ushered out, and the woman turns the sign over on the door so that the inside says _'Welcome, all. Come on in.'_

The lady huffs, her green eyes turn to look at them.

"Thank you," Korra says.

"Of course," she replies, "You want some water, hon? You really took a swan dive there. This heat, by Agni, it's like the Fire Nation..."

As she goes around back, Mako-at least he thinks it's Mako. His head is still fuzzy- asks, "Bo...? Hey, what happened? Are you alright? You nearly gave me a heart attack."

"W-where's...where's Nyla?"

Bolin puts his head on Mako's shoulder and breathes in through his mouth. He groans. Mako grips him tighter, "Shhhh...You're okay now..."

"What did you see?" Asami asks gently.

He rubs his head against Mako's shoulder, wincing. "._...Horrible..." _he rasps, " C-can I have some water...?"

"It's coming," Korra soothes, as the lady comes back around the bend not a moment later.

"Here you go, sweetie," the woman offers the cool glass down to him.

Bolin doesn't hear her, "Where's...Nyla?" he asks again, "I jus- just saw her..."

He hears glass shatter with a sharp intake of breath. His eyes snap open, as he see's the lady's face drain of color.

"What...? What did you just say...?"

Bolin can see now-with his eyes back in focus and his head now having stopped spinning- something very clear. This woman and the girl- Nyla- look very much alike. They have the same eyes, and same nose and cheekbones. And while Nyla's hair was darker and thinker, and her lips were a bit fuller, he has no doubt that this woman is her mother.

"You saw Nyla!? My baby!? You saw her, when?" the woman exclaims, green eyes starting to tear. "Did you see her on your way over here? Is she coming this way?"

Something gets caught in Bolin's throat and he coughs again.

_Nylaaaa...Nylaaaa...come out, come out, wherever you are..._

A scream rings out in his mind, and he whimpers.

"Bo?"

And he can't. The lady- he now sees her name tag read 'Saba' -is clasping her hands together, looking hopeful. By Spirits, he just can't _do it._

_"I'm sorry..."_

Saba's face falls. She doesn't understand. "Nyla, my baby girl. She's only eight. She went missing two weeks, on her way home from school," She takes the poster off the wall and hands it to Korra. Bolin feels all three of his friends' faces fall, realization cutting in as they look at the picture-then to Bolin with pitiful eyes- and back to the poster. They understand now. They don't know what happened, but Bolin can tell that they are realize that that little girl is never coming home. That Saba will never see her daughter again.

"So, please, take this, let people know. If you see or hear anything..." her voice cracks and she whips her face.

"Of course," Mako says gently.

And they are all slowly walking out of the store now-when did he stand up? When did he start walking?- Mako is holding him close, supporting him. And he _tries_ not to think about what just happened;how the little girl screamed and cried, how the man laughed, how her head cracked as it hit the wall- how he _was_ the little girl.

Somehow, he gets in the back seat of Asami's car and closes his eyes. His mind escapes to the darkness of a dreamless sleep, as he hears voices whisper around him.

The hushed conversation in the car continues on, but he wills his mind to shut off and roll away with the heat.

_Poor Nyla. If only you would have played nice._

_..._

He comes back into consciousness some time later. He doesn't ask how long, so they do not say. He's covered in a layer of cold sweat, and his mouth is dry.

He wakes up on a bed at Air Temple Island, Mako by his side, a small, weary smile on his face that does not meet his eyes, nor can Bolin seem to match. He silently drinks water, and sips soup, and tells himself he is Bolin/Bolin/_Bolin _but down the hall, a door slams loudly, and a baby hollers, and the small, plain bedroom keeps switching into a horrible dark basement, with an old, faded couch and a hole in the wall.

Then, after a while of silence, the girls come back in and they all ask, so he tells them quietly, huddled up in a ball, describing it in a way that he doesn't think makes much sense, but he's_ trying._

He closes his eyes so he doesn't have to look at their scared, worried, pitying faces, and sees the dark of his closed eyelids.

He tells them about how he was drawn to the '_Missing_' poster, about how he saw Nyla- no, how he _was_ Nyla, because he _felt_ everything. He tells them of the fear, the helplessness, and pain as her air was cut off, he rubbing his neck the whole time. He describes the man- no the _monster_- as best as he can. There were definitely scars on his nose, and his breath stunk- a smell that is isn't sure he will soon be able to forget. Mako asks what Nation he thinks the man was from, if he bent at all. He shakes his head, and says it was dark, he doesn't remember what color they were, only that they were beady and crazed. He says the man had to be about six feet tall, and was bald. And- he closes his eyes tight- and says that he smacks her head against the wall. He whispers about how the man smiled and laughed and how he hates his visions so much that he just-

He's crying now, biting his lip, and he just wants to erase it all.

"_It's like I died, too..._" He whispers, his face in his hands.

"Oh, Bo..." he hears Mako say softly, and climb into the bed with him, wrapping him tight.

"I hate them so much," he cries, "At first I thought it would be okay because you said it would be. You said even though they were scary, that they would help people and that you were proud..." He shuts his eyes, "But's it's not okay, Mako. _It's not okay._"

Mako is at a loss for words, not knowing what to say. Bolin hears him sigh wearily, and hold him close. "We'll get through this, Bo. I promise you..."

Then, two other pairs of arms -Korra and Asami- are around him, too, and he wants them to go, wants them all to leave, because can't they see he's cursed?

He want's to go back to before. To go back to bed and start the day all over. Because he's seen people die in his visions before. Angry Spirit attacks on innocent crew workers; an exploding building full of unsuspecting citizens; a Triad man murdered, only because he wanted what was his birthright; his bending back. Sometimes, he could prevent it. The building was saved that day, and the other time, only half of the crew workers that he saw killed, actually did die, and sustained injuries. But the Triad murder had happened in the past, like this one. And being killed in a vision, past or present, is not very pleasant either way.

And the fact is that he's never liked this whole 'vision thing' from the start. Sure, he saved some people, (far less than he'd have liked), and he stopped a killer Equalist after who knows how many victims, but it's getting harder and to remember who _Bolin_ is which each person, and every surge of memories. And he's never been good at defining reality to begin with.

"Korra? Would you please come in here?" Tenzin's voice rings out, and everyone looks up. He knows the told Tenzin, and will explain to him the rest later.

Right now he just wants to lay in a shower, and maybe bang his head against the wall a few times to keep it from spinning and thinking too much. And every time he close his eyes, he sees _her_ face.

"What am I going to tell the mother?" he asks desperately.

"You, nothing," Korra says as she gets off the bed and starts moving to the door, "Don't worry. We'll handle most of it. All you have to do is I.D. the guy."

"But, Korra-"

"-Hey..." Mako cuts in, "Just try to rest for a bit okay? You really stuck a landing there, bro." Mako tries to joke, but it's not helping, "We'll go home in a little bit."

Mako refills the water glass, and the three of them walk out of the room. He's too tired to argue, too tired, too tired.

Bolin doesn't know how to tell them that he has no idea where the house is, and even if he did, how does he tell them that he thinks the game isn't over yet, when Nyla is now above the rules?

Bolin feels like he'll never be able to sleep again.

_Will you play with me, Bolin?_ the voice asks. Her voice is think because her neck is still swollen.

Bolin doesn't know how to tell her that it's a game nobody wins.

...

"What I don't understand," Mako says in frustration, "is how this little girl could be missing for _two weeks_, and the Police not know about it?" He pinches his nose and sighs.

"Maybe only some were notified," offers Asami, "I mean, not all of you get the same cases and work. Maybe some guys were working on it."

"Yeah, but don't you think Mako would have at least seen her picture in the station?" Korra asks.

"Good point."

"I'm just really worried about Bolin, you guys," Mako says, "He never been affected this badly, at least, not that he's shown. Sure he's freaked out, and wanted go help, and felt guiltily after. But not...not like this," Mako runs a hand through his hair, "It's not just me, right? You all saw what happened at the store. I nearly had a heart attack."

The girls nod, "Me, too," says Korra, "I just wish there something we could do to help Bolin. How can we even find the guy; do you think Bolin knows where he lives?"

"His visions have never really been that specific, but I'll ask him," Mako sighs, "Maybe-"

"Korra, I just got off the phone with Lin," Tenzin comes into the room then.

"And?"

"She and a squad are doing a patrol of the areas near where the girl was last seen, and any suspicious buildings. They'll be on the lookout."

"What about the parents?" Asami asks.

Tenzin's face falls, "They haven't been notified yet. They won't be until a body is found."

"But there _will_ be a body found!" Asami exclaims, "What do you think Bolin just went through? How can you give them false hope, only to break their hearts afterward?"

"Asami," Mako puts hand on her shoulder, "I hate it, too, but this is how the law works. We can't just go and tell them what Bolin saw, tell them their daughter is dead when we have no proof, or know who this guy is. No one would believe us, despite Bolin being right in the past. No matter who we are, we'd be put in court."

"It's just so horrible..." she says.

Tenzin cuts in, "It's been a long day. Why don't you all get some rest? We can continue this tomorrow."

The three bid each other a weary goodnight, and go on their separate ways.

...

"Tenzin?" Korra's feet pad across the cold floor, her form being outlined by the desk lamp in Tenzin's office.

"Korra?" Tenzin looks up from his paper work and turns another light on,"It's the middle of the night. Are you alright?"

Korra shakes her head, tears threatening to spill. "No," she says, "I'm not..."

Tenzin takes out the other chair and motions her to sit down. Despite it being well past midnight, Korra is like a daughter to him, and she is just starting to voice her difficult feeling to him, so he would never turn her away.

"What's on your mind?"

"I...It's just..."Korra struggles, "Do you think I made the right choice?"

Tenzin doesn't understand, "With what?"

"With leaving the Spirit Portals open?"

"Korra..." he puts a hand on her shoulder, "Remember how we talked about not doubting ourselves? I told you that whatever decision you made, I would support you. And I still hold true to that."

Korra looks down, " I know, but...the weight of it, it being a permanent change to the _whole world..._What if I'm known as the Avatar who changed the whole world for the worse? What if..."

"Every Avatar had their own problems and regrets," he says, "it is part of being the Avatar. And, part of being human."

Korra goes silent for a long moment, finding great interest in playing with the end of her ponytail.

"But, it's been weeks, Korra. What brought this doubt along now?"

"B-bolin..." she says softly, "All those people with..." she trails off.

Tenzin takes a moment to contemplate.

"Oh, I think I understand," he says finally, "Korra, you are saying that you blame yourself for what Bolin's going through? That you think that it's your fault that all these people have these abilities, because you were the one to bring the Spirits into our world?"

Korra cringes, "Isn't it, though? Bolin and Mako, they must hate me. They must blame me for-"

Tenzin shakes his head, "-Korra, listen to me. I know that this all seems to be your fault, I understand why you are feeling this way. But you must understand, that is the Spirits' will, not yours. You said it yourself the we are entering a New Age, that world is changing, and with it, the people as well. The Spirits choose people for a reason, and I believe, no matter how bleak things may seem now, that things are meant to be this way. Change takes time, you'll see."

"I just want the old Bolin back," she says.

"I know you do. Things are going to be alright, Korra. We just have to be-"

"-Patient?"

Tenzin smiles, and wraps his arms around her tight.

"I love you, Tenzin."

"I love you, too," he says, "and I want you to remember something: not all change is bad, or permanent. Everything changes, but that is how we grow."

"Maybe, but it's still hard."

"That it is, my dear, that it is..."

* * *

Sooo...yeah.

A lot longer than I expected. Once I started, I just couldn't stop.

More action and POV's next chapter. We're going to see more about the horrible man and the family and the murder.

Soooo...let me know what'cha think! :D


	2. Number Twelve

_"To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment."******  
- Ralph Waldo Emerson**_

* * *

Warning: Shall be creepy. ;)

* * *

The door swung open to Cheif Beifong's office so fast that the papers on her desk stood no chance against its flow of air. Lin bit back a scowl.

"Chief, there is something we've got to tell you. And, it's not good." Song's brows dipped down over his tired eyes, the wrinkles from his frown making him look older than he was.

"Well, spill it, Song! We've haven't gotten all day." Lin tried not to be snappy, but lack of sleep, and being in a windowless room that was so hot she could practically feel her skin melting off due to a certain blasted air conditioner having yet to be fixed, was not helping any one's mood.

"We didn't find the girl's body."

"I would assume that to be a good thing, Officer,"Lin's lips thinned,"if I haven't been given other information by the Avater herself. But since Mako's brother did 'see' this girl killed, I don't think it needs to be said that you need to look harder."

Song cleared his throat. "Ma'am, I am not doubting you, or the Avatar's friends. I am just saying that, well...we didn't find the body, and-"

"-Song, please, get to the point. It's bloody hot in here and you're taking up air." She attempted to arrange her files back in order.

Song sucked in a breath. _"We found body parts."  
_

Lin's head snapped up so fast she nearly felt the room tilt.

"_What?_"

"A hand on the table, the legs buried under a fence in the backyard, the head..." Song gulped.

Lin pitched her nose and held up her hand to stop her Officer. Lin sucked in a gulp of air, "Are you sure it was the victim we were investigating?"

"...Positive, ma'am." the hitch in Song's voice was like a dog whining, "I was the one to bend the head out of the ground. The DNA matched perfectly."

Lin cursed under her breath, "Damn it, kid, why do you always have to be right about these things?"

But for not the first time in Lin's life, she could say she had never regretted having children. The only imaginable heartbreak was nearly not worth it.

"And the killer?"

The room was silent for a few seconds.

"Took off. We searched the house and he left no evidence, the monster."

Lin took great interest of trying not to bite her own tongue off.

"...How should we notify the parents, Ma'am?"

Lin shook her head, gripping her desk with white knuckles. "Not yet. There's some people I have to talk to first."

* * *

The silence in the room was deafening as Lin told her officer's report to Korra and her friends.

Mako's and Korra's faces were drained of color, Asami had a hand over her mouth like she was about to cry, and Bolin- he just looked competently empty, his eyes lacking any emotion.

"So," Lin sighed, "That was what they found. No lead to the killer, though-just took off."

"What do we do now," Korra asked.

"Now, we keep searching." She replied, "Mako," said firebender looked up,"I need you on the scene first thing tomorrow."

"Yes, Ma'am," he said, taking a great effort not to look at his brother.

And with that, she left, leaving the friends in the eeriness of the room.

* * *

They all had dinner at Air Temple island that night, everyone trying to get their mind of the case for the time being, but the underlying tension was brewing.

Bolin had yet to say a single word since Lin's confession of the case, and the Earthbender's lack of talking or eating was making itself clearly known.

Bolin had tried to politely excuse himself once, but Pema had come back in the room with more food, the kids had started yapping happily, and a piece of congee had managed to fly unto his shirt from across the table before he could leave. Not like he had the energy to move, anyway.

Mako squeezed his knee from underneath the table, and rolled a dumpling onto his still-full plate, urging him to eat it. "They're really good, Bo. Eat some for me, okay? You'll feel better."

Bolin didn't know how to say that he didn't know how to eat when Nyla couldn't eat anymore. Or that when Ikki started talking, her voice almost sounded like her. Or that the only way he'd feel better was to erase any vision he ever had from his memory and be normal again.

In the end, he plopped the dumping in his mouth without tasting it, the gooey dough sticking his tongue to the roof of his mouth felt like it would be a little girl's favorite.

He saw a green bow that had been tied around Nyla's dress lying on the floor in the corner, the ends stained with red. He heard a little voice asking to play, sounding sweet and innocent, and _One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve.__  
_

_Do you know what it means to save the best for last?_ Nyla asked.

_No,_ he shook his head, _what?_

_Shhhh..._she held her finger to her lips,_ no cheating._

And then she was gone.

He knew no one else saw or heard these things.

He squeezed Mako's hand until dinner was over.

* * *

"But, Mako, it was an accident that time. I mean, I've never _tried_ to sense someone before, and I really don't think I want to."

Bolin was sitting on the couch in their apartment, bundled up, chin resting on his knees. He remembered when Mako had had his last murder case-an Equalist serial killer whose's victims were all people who wanted their bending back. He remembered how he had stupidly played with the knife-that-he-did-not-know-at-the-time-was-the-murder-weapon, saw a Red Monsoon get stabbed/he get stabbed/ Monsoon/ him/No-_Monsoon_, and how it gave him a very fast and very painful fall into unconsciousness.

He knew where Mako was going with this, and he really didn't wanna know what would happen if he _tried_ to sense the guy.

Mako came over to sit by him. "I know, Bo, I don't like it either. But maybe if...if I find something of his...something the other guys missed," Mako considered, "and then I can bring it to you. Maybe you can feel it, like you did the knife, and-"

"-No."

"But, Bol-

"-I..." his voice got real tight, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed, "I can't, Mako. I'm sorry."

"Bolin, I know it's scary, but think about-

"-Shut up! You don't know _anything!" _Bolin suddenly yelled, "_You have no idea what it's like!_"

Mako's mouth opened and closed, startled by his brother's outburst.

"You're asking me to try to sense a killer, when whenever I do go all freaky-vision-eyed, it makes me feel like I am literally dying and being put back together. That when I do come out of it, I feel like my insides are jelly and I'm ready to puke and pass out, not to mention what I have to see." Bolin stared at his brother, his eyes blazing.

"I...I'm sorry, Bolin," Mako put a hand on his shoulder. The guilt was written on his face, "but think of it this way. You'll be helping all those people. You've always wanted to help others, and now's your chance. You'd be a really useful tool for our case!"

"'Useful tool'?" Bolin scoffed. Mako didn't know who he was talking to. Bolin went on, "I'm not just some new toy to help you play detective, Mako! Is that what this is? You just want to use me so you can win this case and get the guys at the station to like you?"

Mako looked at his brother incredulously. "_What? _No! Of course not! And the fact that you would even think I'd feel that way, really hurts."

Bolin shook Mako's hand off, "I have to see people die, very violently, so you asking me to do this, when I don't even know if I _can_...It something I never want to see again, if I can help it." Bolin sighed wearily, feeling his anger leaving. "The fact that you are asking me to do this like it's not a big deal_-that_ really hurts, Mako."

The brothers were silent for a few moment, neither one looking at each other.

"I'm sorry for not being more understanding, Bo. I'm being real insensitive, aren't I?"

Bolin snorted, his eyes hard, "Yeah, well you can get that way sometimes. You get all job-crazy and think being a cop is more important than your relationships." Bolin got up and went down the hall to his room.

Mako looked down in his lap and knew Bolin was right. Maybe then if he had actually listened to his friends and tried to be more understanding instead of thinking of his job, he and Korra would still be together. Maybe Bolin wouldn't have had to move back in, because he wouldn't have felt the need to get away and move out in the first place. Maybe he wouldn't have hurt Asami for the billionth time.

Mako sighed and shook his head. He began walking to his brother's room to apologize. When he opened Bolin's door and saw him, he nearly had another heart attack.

His brother's clothes were off, and he was left in only his tank-top and boxers for bed. It looked like someone had taken a knife and tried to chop up Bolin's limbs; ugly red marks marred his skin right where the arms met his shoulders, just above his knees-and his _neck_...

His brother's neck looked like someone had tried to crush it and mar it off with a butter knife; the skin all bruised and swollen just below the jaw, the blood-red scar nearly meeting both sides of his collarbone.

Mako swore he saw the outline of a hand print circling his brother's throat.

Mako felt bile rising up inside him, "Bolin!" he screamed.

Bolin jumped and faced him, "_What?_"

Mako tried in vain to keep the tears from stinging his eyes.

_We're afraid that the victim's body was not found intact_, Cheif Beifong's words stung his mind, _but that we are dealing with a much more disturbing dilemma. My officers found body parts scattered about the house and buried in the yard- two full arms, the legs off by the knees, and the head just below the neck- all seeming to be cut off with a knife. An alert is going out to the people and further investigation is ongoing._

Words could not describe the look on Mako's face. "Why didn't you _tell me?"_ he asked desperately.

Bolin turned away and got in bed. He pulled the covers over his head.

"_Bo?"_

"I _did_ tell you. I feel whatever they feel. You just didn't listen." he turned off the lights, leaving the room in blackness, "Your powers of deduction are impressive, Detective."

* * *

To say that Mako had been surprised when his brother had shown up to the crime scene at seven the next morning, would be the understatement of a lifetime.

He saw Bolin and Korra walking up to him, and needless to say, the depressing mood was clear on their features.

"Bo? What are you doing here? I thought..."

"Cheif asked me to come," he said simply, "she thought I'd be helpful or whatever."

"But last night, you said...I mean, you said you didn't wanna do this." Mako was cautious. He'd been a jerk to his brother last night, and didn't want to make matters worse.

"I know what I said," Bolin replied, showing the officers his badge to allow him access to the scene, "I'm not doing this for you. I'm doing this for the family." And with that, he ducked under the yellow tape and started walking away.

Mako felt something pitch in his stomach. He felt Korra put a hand on his shoulder, and give him a sad look. "Just be his big brother, Mako. That's all he needs right now."

"Lately I can't seem to even get that right," Mako sighed and pulled the tape up for Korra to walk under.

Lin's officers were right; the body parts were scattered everywhere, and it was all it took for him not to puke.

The bubbling heat of the sun, even at the early hour, was making everything stink horridly, with a mixture of sun-baked dirt. The parts were being delicately wrapped into sealed bags for further evidence, with angry metelbenders barking orders and wiping sweat from their foreheads.

Mako tried desperately to search for his brother through the crowded yard and house, cutting through hallways, and opening locked doors with warning signs. He opened every drawer, and found nothing but broken pencils and an old container of mu shu pork that smelled older than he was.

Sure enough, Mako found no evidence supporting that the man had been here, except for the large hole in the basement wall where Bolin had said it would be, and the smashed radio that still lay in pieces on the floor, tape around it.

It was like the guy just...vanished...? Mako vaguely wondered if the guy possessed the ability of super speed, before telling his mind to _shut up_.

Mako was ready to go back upstairs when he caught movement behind him, by the bend in the room off to the left.

Bolin was standing there, his green-clad back facing him, his fingers rubbing back and forth along the broken cement in the wall.

"Bo...?" Mako stepped closer, "Hey, you okay?" Mako kicked himself. Of course he wasn't okay! What kind of stupid question was that?

Bolin just turned his eyes slightly to the left, voice numb, "She died right over there, by the couch. That's where he smashed her head."

Mako sucked in a breath and dared a look to where his brother was referring. Try as he might, he couldn't see what his brother saw. Was his mind still replaying that horrid moment over and over?

This was a bad idea, he couldn't believe he had let Bolin come here, or even_ wanted_ him to come last night. What kind of brother was he, putting Bolin through this?

"Do you see?" Bolin asked.

Mako saw a tiny indent in the wall, a little faded red mark that was sure to be a blood stain, but that was pretty much it. The monster had cleaned up well- almost _too well_, as if he knew that he had to leave soon.

Mako swallowed, "I do." he said, voice high. Then he asked, "What do _you_ see?"

Bolin's face betrayed something for a moment. Mako wasn't sure what emotions passed behind his brother's eyes, but he concealed it quickly.

Bolin's hands were shaking.

This was a bad idea, a _really_ bad idea, Mako thought. Bolin was too innocent, he wasn't cut out for this.

"Bo, let me take you home," Mako put a hand on his shoulder. Bolin flinched. "Come on, bro..."

Just as Bolin was about to say something, a voice rang from upstairs.

"Hey, detective, where are you?" Saikan's called.

"Mako, Bolin?" Korra's voice.

The patter of fur boots on the stairs made both brothers' head jerk up. There was Korra, face sweaty and hair stuck to her forehead.

"Mako, Lin needs you outside. She's discussing patrols, and possible leads."

_What possible leads?_ Mako thought, _we have nothing to go on._ But he motioned for Bolin to follow him back outside.

* * *

Mako opened the door to the yard, catching Lin in mid-sentence.

"Well, officers, it seems that no evidence of the man or leads have been found, yet. Needless to say, this man is tricky, and most likely knew we were coming, which make him all the more dangerous." her voice was booming in the quiet yard, "Chang, take your squad and go do another search of the East Side. Song," she said, "take five of your group to do another sweep of the yard. If you need to tear the ground apart, do it."

"And you," she turned to face the three friends. Her face softened, "Just...try to find anything you can."

She nodded and went to follow the men around back.

"Well," Korra said, "I guess I can help dig up the yard..." She didn't really know what to say.

"Yeah, I guess that's a good idea-"

"Hey, kid, what are you doing!? Don't touch the evidence!"

Mako and Korra turned around to see Bolin at the other side of yard, peering into the bag which stored the decapitated head. His eyes were glassy and far away as he stuck his hand in the bag.

"_Bolin!"_ Mako yelled and the two sprinted over to him.

What Mako saw next made his breath nearly stop. Once Bolin's fingers touched the corpse's forehead, his eyes started glowing a harsh green light, illuminating his whole face.

_"B-bo...?"_

* * *

Bolin wasn't sure when the feeling happened, but a huge pit in his stomach had been threatening to drown him since he stepped on the property. It was like an overwhelming feeling of dread tugging at him once he got on the lawn, like they knew he was here.

He didn't even know who _they_ were. But they were here, watching him.

He was drawn to her- to her head almost instantly. Like someone controlling his body, he went over and opened the bag. Slowly, slowly, he placed his fingers on her forehead.

He was aware of someone yelling his name, but he couldn't respond. He felt power rushing through him, a green light stinging his view, as he felt his eyes roll back into his head.

_He always saves the best for last._

This time was different, for he wasn't someone else, like in his past visions. It was like he was watching it all happen from above.

At least, at first he was.

_The man was checking things off on a piece of paper with a pen, as if he were going through a list. The stench was nearly unbearable, like blood being heated up. The names written on the list were from all different Nations and somehow,with each name being written down and checked off, Bolin could see who they were, how old they had been. _

_There were four names before Nyla on the list. Twelve names in all._

_He became each of them one at a time: dying, then coming back, then dying again._

_He was: _

_Watertribe, male, 12: Hotah.  
_

_Burn, burning, white-hot fire that chewed up little Hotah from the inside out. Slowly, slowly, no ice to cool him down._

_Earth Kingdom, female, 9: Sasha._

_Shiver, shiver, numb, numb. Blue skin, crystal cold. At least Sasha had gone quick, at least Sasha hadn't had anytime to be afraid because she'd been unconscious for most of it._

_Fire Nation, male, 14: Ling._

_A rope here, and rope there, rope, ropes, everywhere. His limbs being pulled apart like jelly, stretched so far until one last 'yank' and- dead._

_Water Tribe/ Fire Nation, male, 11: Oroza._

_Smash, smash, the rocks come down, until your brains spill all around._

_Then Nyla came again and it was like he had to watch everything in slow motion._

_He died, and came back, and died once more until he felt his soul come back to him and-_

_'Do you know what it means to save the best for last?' He felt Nyla say inside his head._

_'No. What?'_

_'Look at the List. The List knows all.'_

_He forced himself to look back at the man, writing down the names. He scrolled his eyes down until number 'twelve' was in clear view._

_Earth Kingdom/ Fire Nation_

_Male_

_17_

_B-_

_The man turned to him now, as if he could see him. "You'll never find me." he said, "All I'll leave is a trail of their body's. You'll never save them, and you'll never find me."_

_With that, he took his knife, raising it high above his head, and stabbed it in Bolin's heart._

_"Poor Bolin. If only you'd have played nice. Don't you know that cheaters never win?"_

"BOLIN! Snap out of it! _Bro!_"

He comes out of it screaming bloody murder, falling to his side and spewing vomit on the ground.

Mako's hands are on his back, holding him, rubbing soothing circles as he vomits again, clutching his chest.

"Bolin, it's okay. It's okay, now, Bo, I got you!"

Officers come running to the yard to see what the yelling is about, Korra and Mako holding him as the green light leaves his eyes.

"What the heck happened?" one yells.

He groans, "The-the List..." he rasps.

Mako leans in closer, "What, Bo?"

"The List...He-he left a list...a copy of it..." he coughs and dry heaves once more. Mako grips his shoulder. "The list of h-his victims...bottom drawer, basement..."

And Bolin fell to his side, his eyes sliding shut, and passed out.

Everyone looked at each other, incredulously. The silence in the air could be cut with a knife.

Everything seemed to happen at once. Mako looked to Bolin, shocked and panic in his eyes. Then he looked towered Korra.

_"Go."_ she says.

And Mako sprints to the basement, Officers right behind him.

The stairs nearly give way from all the pressure on it at once.

"In here!" someone yells, "Hurry, open it!"

The wooden drawer is wrenched open, but nothing is there.

"What? It's empty! There's no copy!" Chang says, "Kid, your brother's crazy!"

"No, he's _right_." Mako sees the flap, the hidden cover of the drawer, hiding the bottom underneath.

Mako takes the top layer off and troughs it to the side. The paper is folded at the bottom, stained and crinkled.

"Well, does it say the victims?" a metelbender asks.

And Mako doesn't know how to respond. He doesn't know how to say that the first five kids, including Nyla, are all checked off with a big, red, mark. He doesn't know how to say that out of the twelve on list, they are all seventeen years and under. Or that at the bottom of the page is a little note saying their time of death, or how much blood they lost. He can't tell them how the monster has coordinates to all the still-alive seven victims' houses, or where they work, or go to school.

Mako clutches a hand to his mouth, feeling the color drain his face when he see's his_ brother's_ name at the very bottom, number twelve. His age, Ethnicity, gender, background-_everything._ His brother's name is enclosed around a big, fat circle. Right underneath Bolin's name is a phrase:

_The best is always saved for last_.

"Mako? Hey, kid, you alright? What is it?"

Mako's hands shakes, he has to grip the drawer to keep his head from spinning.

"Does it say anything similar about the victims?" Chang asks.

Mako swallows, and looks at them all.

_"He's killing everyone with Abilities._"


	3. No One Mourns the Wicked

_*Maven: someone wh__o excels at their skill, much to the jealousy of others._

_Note: more POV, Like Lin's and Korra's and Asami's in next chapter._

* * *

_{Two can keep a secret, if one of them is dead...}_

* * *

The bolt to the door opened with a squelching echo, omitting the smell of freshly sharpened steel, and the bitter scent of sweat into his nostrils. The sadistic smile on his lips was met with much admiration of the same foulness from his comrades.

"Sir," one man said, whose hair was tipped red, ear lobes hanging low from the network of rings he had pierced in them, "It is good to see you again. It was getting almost dreary here without you. Made any good kills lately?"

"Ahh," he grunted, "that I have, Maven ***** and gave a good scare to the so-called police in this piss-can of a city. They're playing by my rules now, whether they like it or not."

Maven laughed, grinding his sword against his sharpener, to which sparks crackled, "Oh, Abdicator, at this rate, we'll have the Avatar begging us to stop. And what's her little friend's name, good ol' number twelve?"

The Abdicator swung his chair around, and propped his blood-stained boots up on the table. He clucked his tongue, and called his servant to get him a drink, "My dear Maven, all in due time. We must be patient. Revenge is a dish best served cold, you know." he picked at the dried blood under his fingernails, absent-mindedly, "We cannot simply kill all those little abominations off in a day; we must let the fear and paranoia brew for a bit. Then we shall have them all at our mercy, including the Avatar. But," his eyes shown bright, "Especially Twelve. I'm saving my most powerful prize for last. If I wanted him dead, I would've killed him a long time ago."

Maven's eyes gleamed with admiration. He swung his sword back and forth to test it out. "You talk of this boy as if he is a maven out of all the abominations. Is he really that powerful?" Then, with one clean move, he let it soar through the air, to the target on the wall. The razor-like tip seared the very center of the bull's-eye.

"He is," said The Abdicator, "He possesses abilities he does not even know of yet. The Spirits tell me all and everything of these children. It is my responsibility to dispose of the ones who will be weak, and keep the ones who will thrive. War is coming, Maven. A war that will change the fate of the world as we know it. If we play our cards right, my little Twelve can help me. If I can get him to unleash the power inside him, it will make him unstoppable. And he _will_ help me, whether he likes it or not," he smiled, and chugged back his drink as soon as it was handed to him, "I will leave him no other choice."

* * *

The newspapers screamed danger, and people cowered in fear. A child serial killer on the loose spreads quick threw out a city such as Republic. Lock your door, close your windows.

People on sidewalks held signs screaming "_The Abominations must be stopped!" _as if these children were monsters and didn't have families.

Something bad was coming, something very bad...

* * *

Mako tore down the streets on his bike, the house of the Sixth Victim on the List, coming closer as he turned the corner.

By what his brother saw, this child, and this family were about to be broken beyond repair if he didn't get the child to a safe place. As Mako parked his bike, he checked the List again, just to make sure.

_Kuzon; male, 11, Fire Nation. Ability; Telepathy._

Mako sighed, and stuffed the List back in his pocket. Capture bad guys? Sure, he could do that. But tell an otherwise happy family that their super-powered son was a target of a serial killer? He could already hear their cries and accusations.

Mako ran a hand through his hair and put on a brave face. He stepped up to the door and knocked.

Once.

Twice.

"Hello? Anyone home? This is the Police!" _Good job, Mako. That'll make them more eager to open up._

"Excuse me? Mr. and Mrs-" he looked at the List again for the last name, "-Lau...? This is Detective Mako. I'd like you to please open up!" Spirits, Mako could already feel himself sweating.

He waited another minute, with not even a sound to show signs of life from inside. He checked inside the windows, but no movement was seen. Their car was in the driveway, so they were home. And rich- not that that mattered. Mako vaguely wondered if they had gotten a lawyer to keep the press and Cops away.

Maybe this was the wrong house, the bitter thought crossed his mind. Maybe the monster was trying to mess with them. Maybe-

No. He was a Detective. This was his job. He was going to protect these people.

But, somehow, in the back of his mind, Mako always knew that this part of it all would come with the job; the giving-families-bad-news-parts. He couldn't let Bolin come with him, his brother was going through enough pain already. But as Mako held up his foot, ready to kick the door in, he remembered his old resentment for cops and people like him from his freshly-orphaned days, and it gnawed at his insides. He remembered Metalbenders kicking down the door to their parents' apartment when and very scared eight and six-year old him and Bolin wouldn't answer. How they both very well knew mom-and-dad-were-dead, but the cops just had to ask them questions and repeat the horrible truth. How big men in shiny, metal suits had come and dragged them away, kicking and screaming, from their home against their will.

And Mako knew he most likely was going to have to do just that to this family.

He swallowed a lump in his throat, and brought his foot down-_hard_-against the door frame.

A scream immediately met his ears, followed by the remains of wood and metal bits splintering onto the floor. What he saw, was not what he had expected.

Two adults-Mr. and Mrs. Lau- were huddled in the corner of the living room, with their son. The lights were all turned off, shadows casting shapes onto their scared faces.

"Please," the father said, daring to look up, "just leave us alone."

"Sir, I'm Detective Mako, and I'm here to help you." Mako inched closer, holding up his hands, his badge in clear sight. "If you will only allow me to talk to you, I can-"

"No!" Mrs. Lau yelled, "All you people want is to take our son away from us! We won't let you!"

"Ma'am, please." Mako bent down to their positions, "Kuzon is in danger. I have a List right here that says-"

"-A list. _Right."_ the man practically breathed fire, "And does that 'list' give you permition to take away our son?"

Mako sighed. Agni, he wasn't cut out for family services. The need for Bolin was slowly growing. Maybe Bolin could convince them. Do his little mind-connection thingy and show them the real threat they were under. But he wasn't. So it was all up to Mako for now.

"Not exactly," he tried. "But your son's ability does put him at risk as the killer's next victim. See," Mako held the List up to them," He's marked as 'Number Seven', right here. I am friends with the Avatar; we can take him someplace safe."

The scoff that came from the father's lips filled Mako with anger, "Our Kuzon is perfectly normal. He doesn't have any 'freaky ability' that you speak of, _Detective._ If you're so worried about these child-abominations, maybe it's your own brother you should be 'protecting.'"

If Mako wasn't on duty, he might have just burnt the man's mustache off.

"Our Kuzon is special, yes." Mrs Lau said softly, "But he can not do what you are referring to."

"With all due respect, Ma'am," Mako forced his voice to be polite,"Why don't we let Kuzon speak for himself?" He turned to the fearful-looking boy, "Hey, buddy. I'm here to help. Your telepathy?" Mako pointed to his head, "I know you believe me, I know you can hear my thoughts. My brother can help you, too. He knows what you're going through. Just look into my head, and see."

"Kuzon is mute. He has never been able to speak." Mr. Lau's voice was protective like a force Mako only remembered from long ago. "He cannot 'read your thoughts' nor would he want to."

But Kuzon just flicked his eyes back and forth, looking at Mako. And Mako knew they were lying. He believed with his whole heart in Bolin that he was right about these kids, and he was willing to face angry parents, to save this boy.

Mako went with no mercy.

"I beg to differ, _sir_. If you love your son as much I believe you do, you'll do I say and let us take him under our care. Kuzon is going to be killed, just like all those other kids, if you don't let me take him. The Avatar and Cheif Beifong will have him under the most safest-"

_"-Get out."_

Mako swallowed flame, and focused his last effort on the boy in question, "Kuzon, _please. _Look into my head. Do something, _anything_ with your gift. Show me that you believe me; show me a picture in my mind or something." Mako held out his hand, "At least take my hand, and come with me. You'll be safe, I promise."

And Mako swore that those shaking hands moved just a tiny but towered his own.

"Sir, I am _ordering_ you to-

"-Kuzon? C'mon, little man..."

Just as the boy's hand nearly grasped his gloved one, Mako felt something hot meet his shoulder as he was pushed back.

Mr. Lau's eyes blazed nearly as bright at his fire that glowed from his hands. "I said,_ leave our house now!_ You and your kind, get out! Or I'll have a restraining order on you, and you put in court by this afternoon, mark my words!"

And Mako was left helpless. As much as he tried to help, in the end, if the family was unwilling...by _law_ he had to leave.

"Don't make me call my lawyer."

Mako made one last effort. He locked eyes with Kuzon's, and Mako saw more in those eyes, heard more in those unspoken lips than he thought anyone ever could.

Mako cleared his throat, the back of his eyes stinging. "Very well. Good day."

He was pushed outside the now-broken threshold, before he even got off the porch.

As Mako trudged down the steps with defeat on his shoulders, he caught movement by the window at the corner of his eye. The big, red, curtain was pushed aside, Kuzon's sad face looking at him through the glass.

Like a voice standing right beside him, clear his day he heard it. Three simple words in his head.

_I'm sorry, sir._

Then the mother came, eyes dark and angry like a bird of prey, and pulled him away from the window.

Mako felt tears the whole long ride home.

"I'm sorry, too, Kuzon."

* * *

They're endless, stretching beyond the horizon and spreading around Bolin like forever. They five of them- they heave and moan, frothing over each other, cresting and falling, making themselves known only to him, calling out his name. The pure depth and vastness of it all is beyond his comprehension, his eyes unable to focus on any individual in the blurred present when they creep along. Instead, he's drowned in their needs, their feelings (or lack thereof), pulled to them like a force. Their forms ripple and swell, their touch ice-cold, and marking their suffering on his body. Sometimes they are slow and steady, _one, two, three, four, five_ like the ocean. And sometimes they crash onto him all at once, like a tidal wave, so overwhelming he wants to scream. They pull him and pull him, like the dead-tossed waves.

Bolin tries everything he can to get rid of the visions. And to make _them_ go away. To make them, the five- no, now six- of them, stop whispering in his mind, popping up in corners, hiding in the mirrors. He can see them, and they know it. He at first trains himself exhausted; doing push ups and sits up, and crunches till day break, but that only served to make him more tired, and led him to wake up more than once on the kitchen floor in the morning with Mako hovering over him, concerned. He ate and ate until he got sick all over the floor and had to clean it up. He tried meditating, but his mind in that supposedly calm state, only made it easier for them to get to him. And they are _one, two, three, four, five, six, _their bones all intact, but shiny, blood blooming at the joints where they _weren't_ intact before, and they all ask him to _play, play, please,_ _play, Bolin, before your turn is up. _He shakes his head at them, and runs and hides, but they keep coming.

A vision crashes onto to him one day when he is in the middle of the damn cross walk. He's coming from somewhere unimportant, going to somewhere else far more unimportant, an it's his turn to walk, to mingle into the crowd like an ant in an ant farm, trying to be a normal person. His eyes slide into the back of their sockets, white static all around him, and he's _Number Seven_; her little body getting crushed under the fire-hot tires of a Satomile which he delicately created himself; her limbs tied down as he rolls over her again and again, (_ like waves, like the dead-tossed waves_) like he's trying to get mud off the bottom of his shoe. Her bones crack and the monster laughs, and a car honks, with an angry yell to _get out of the damn road, kid, _and Bolin blinks, people staring at him, and its all he can do to keep from passing out then and there. Instead of going to Mako's, or Korra, or Asami's like he knows he _should_ do, he holds his aching bones in his arms to his chest, willing the feeling away, all the while going in the opposite direction.

He finds himself in the back alleys of one of his childhood torments; knocking on the dirty, cement door of the Triple Threat's HQ. Shin lets him in after he makes it clear he's not here for any trouble, or busting them. He asks, -no _begs_- for a pack of cigarettes. _The strongest kind you have,_ the desperation in his voice is pathetic. Shin and them all laugh, then stare at him when they find he doesn't change his posture. _Wait...your serious, kid? Bolin, not that I'm one to get all up in other's shit, but what's eating you?_

_Please, _he holds out his wallet, _I'll pay the full price. _

They chew their gums, considering the odds, and sins are exchanged between sweaty hands.

In the end, he leaves with two packs of the 'blackest stuff they got' and his lungs filled with ash.

* * *

He knows( _feels_) the exact moment when she- Number Seven- Vatani, 13, Water Tribe- washes up on the shores of Yue Bay the next morning (found dead in the Element that used to give her life) before the Police are even notified. He makes a vague comment to Mako that he should 'get ready to head down to the bay' and leaves it at that, when a half hour later Lin calls their phone describing the disturbance found down on the shore.

Mako gives him this sad look, as he ducks back in his room.

'Seven' is supposed to be a lucky number. Bolin just thinks she's lucky enough to be fully intact.

.

The cigarettes help. _Their _voices can't reach through the fog, their forms blurring and fading when met with the hot, wispy smoke. He laughs at them, laughs and laughs, blowing out puffs of white at them from his lungs (_Like a firebender, see! I'm cheating _now_ aren't I?)_ and then feels sorry because he thinks he should be helping them (_ Maybe I just can't turn my back on people, when they're down!)_ But he reminds himself that they aren't people, not anymore. And they are already in the dirt, six feet under, so how more far down can they go?

It's not until his present arrives does he find out that he is very bad at cheating.

They are all at the Island trying to stay sane-and that means eating, and smiling, and watching the air kids run and play in the courtyard. The annoying guy with the squeaky voice comes up to the stairs that they are sitting on, holding a big package and announcing "Package! Package for Mr. Bolin!"

His first thought is how of does the person who sent this to him, know he is on the Island, and not at home, or wherever? He doesn't verbally ask this, and neither do his friends or brother, but he can tell by the looks on their faces that it has passed through their minds.

"What is it?" his voice sounds raspy, and he has to clear his throat to ask, "Who's it from?"

The little man shrugs, "I was just told to bring this to you, and was told that the Avatar and her friends were on the Island."

"That's not weird at all," Mako comments, speaking for the group. Bolin takes the package with trembling fingers.

They all go inside and place the gift on the table. There is a card pinned to the front; Bolin rips it off, and reads it out loud;

_Dear, Bolin,_

_I hope you find this of great use. Just had a certain 'feeling' it would make you see things differently between us._

"Oookkaayyy..." Korra raises an eyebrow. "Is there a certain someone you're not telling us about, Bolin? I mean, you know, someone- _alive?_ 'Cause either I'd love to meet her, or this just got even more creepy."

"Um, no." the words leave his lips like salt, "No, I'd totally tell you if I was seeing someone- I mean, if I had a girlfriend. Um..."

His shaking fingers unwrap the paper, and as soon as his fingers meet the outside of the box, a surge of pain and sadness hits him full-force. He makes a choking sound as his finger hooks under the flap of the box, ripping off the tape, and then the other side. He crunches wrapping paper away with one swift move- and he doesn't know who screams first, or if it's all of them at once.

The corpse's head is yellow and shiny. The softness he felt- that was his hair, all mused with dirt. But the eyes, they are like glass balls, the gray in them sharpened to pin points, staring back at him, but unseeing.

The characters of the words ' For Dear Number Twelve' are written on each of his teeth, in red.

"_Son of a-"_ Mako unleashes a load of curses that Bolin has not heard of in years, and pulls him back and away from the thing. Asami has since not stopped screaming, her high-pitched sobs too loud in his ringing ears. He notices Korra, her tan skin looking green, greener than the mold that Mako used to pick from their bread, and her feet run down the hall, her voice yelling, _"Tenzin?! Get in here, now!"_

He tries to get closer to the head, to see who it is, but Mako just holds him tighter, pulling him away, _easy, Bo. _He can feel Mako's heart pumping through his shirt, his arms too tight around him, and he doesn't understand. What was everyone so afraid of?

"Why is everyone so scared?" he hears his voice say, and he doesn't recognize it at all. It's too, high, too-unfazed. "Why is everyone so upset, Mako?" he asks, and Mako looks down at him, eyes incredulous.

"It's only Kuzon." he says, "He's just playing with me,"

And then he vomits all over the floor.

_P.S._

_The Abdicator makes the Laws, he shall be The Judge,_

_The List knows all, so shall be Marked_

_If any child goes against, they shall pay with blood._

_Twelve shall come to pass, and be the Sinner of this Mass_

* * *

Mako catches him in the act, two days later. (Bolin's not really surprised. He's coughing all the time, his lungs feeling like tar, and can't sit still for more than a half hour at a time before making up some excuse to leave their watchful eyes, and coming back smelling like smoke.)

He's just finished lighting his second one that morning, and the butt is nested in between his two fingers. He's breathing out a choke of white, and smiling at how _they _all run away. Mako should be happy that he's happy, he thinks. He hasn't had a vision or freak out since he started, and it's _Spirit-damned wonderful_. Maybe he can live long enough to get away, far away.

He's bringing the blackened butt back to his lips, in the middle of a deep inhale, when someone grabs his shoulders, gruffly.

"What the hell are you doing?!"

He blows out a smoky sigh right in his face, to which his golden eyes blaze. "What the hell does it look like I'm doing?"

Mako practically yanks the thing from his hand, and melts it in his heated grasp. He doesn't really care; he has two other packs.

His brother glares. "Do you _want_ to get sick, Bolin?"

"Do you _want_ a normal brother, Mako?" he counters, raising his brow, and pushes out the rest of the smoke from his lips. He smiles; no goons in sight. _Yes, sleep tight, sleep tight._

"Bo..." he hears Mako sigh, and his fingers run through his spiky hair, "Look, I understand why you're doing this, okay? I get it. Things right now are horrifying and freakin' suck. But you know this isn't healthy for you, and it's just going to make things worse."

Despite himself, he laughs. He laughs harsh and bitterly, and Mako blinks.

"...Why are you laughing?"

"Because you don't understand _anything. _You think you do, but you don't. Smoking makes everything better; I haven't felt this good since before I ever got these fucking visions. They make them go away- disapeer. You should be happy, too."

Mako opens his mouth, then closes it. Bolin practically sees his brother trying to work this out in his head, going over the best possible answer.

The Firebender pinches his nose. "Okay, first off all, watch your mouth. Just because I let one slip, doesn't mean you should. And, second, this isn't the way to make things easier, Bo." he says, and looks at his brother with concern, "I-I'm trying to help, and I know I can never fully understand what it's like, and I'm sorry that I ever forced you to use your powers when you didn't want to. I'm sorry, okay? I know that smoking may make you feel better, and stop the visions, but...in the end, it's just gonna hurt your health. You've been coughing up your lungs; how do you think that's gonna affect you in the long run?" Honestly, Mako's a bit ashamed he didn't put two and two together sooner.

He shakes his head, "It doesn't matter. As long as this stops the visions, and stops me from seeing all their ghosts, I don't care."

"You..." Mako pales, "You can see their ghosts...?"

He scoffs and looks away, "Are you really that surprised? I thought you knew."

"I-I...no, I didn't know that..." The guilt on Mako's face is palpable.

He troughs up his arms in exasperation, "Who do you think I'm talking to at night? My fucking imaginary friends? Pabu? They all come to me, and won't leave me alone..."

Mako just looks at him, eyes sad, "...Kuzon, too?"

He nods. "All of them, a new one each time."

Mako shuts his eyes and looks away, "_Bo..._"

"It doesn't matter, anyway," Bolin shoves past him, "The cigarettes help whether you like them or not. I'll get more. I'll get as much as I need to-"

"No!" Mako yells, "I said no, Bolin!"

"Yeah, and what are you gonna do about it, Detective? Thought you'd rather have me as an ash tray, than a freak!"

"You're _not_ a freak, Bolin!" Mako grasps his arm to stop him, "I'm just trying to help you-"

"-Well, you're not!" Bolin shoves his hand away.

"-Well, I'm trying, okay?!"

"It's not good enough!"

"Don't you think I know that?!" Mako exclaims, "I'm telling you to stop smoking, or- or else!"

"Or else _what?"_

"Or...or else your grounded!"

"Thanks, dad, real effective."

_"Hey!_"

Bolin just turns around and starts stalking off, "Just leave me alone!"

"Get back here, I'm not done yet!" Mako runs up and spins him around to face him.

Bolin words are biting. "You'll be sorry you yelled at me, when you find _my_ body!" he yells.

Mako falters. His mouth hangs open, and eyes stinging. _"Bolin..." _his voice cracks. "Please don't say things like that..."

Bolin beats him to the punch, the tears coming down now fast, "Don't you see, it's like I'm cursed!" his voice is pinched, his eyes squeezed shut tight, "Everywhere around me, I'm making people die. It's all my fault. Just- just _don't touch me._.." he begins stepping back, but Mako is faster. Mako's arms wrap him up tight, his tears dampening Bolin's cheek.

"I won't let him get you, Bolin," Mako whispers in his ear, "I swear to you, I swear to Mom and Dad. I'm gonna protect you." he mumbles teary vows.

Bolin starts sobbing harder, "You can't. Don't you get it? _You can't._ He want's me, all to himself- he's not gonna stop. He's gonna use me for something horrible and we can't stop it."

"Well," Mako breathes, "He's gonna have to fight me over _my_ dead body, first."

Bolin laughs, a tearful, pathetic nose, "Your puns are fucking terrible, bro."

"I know, little brother," Mako sighs, and wipes his face, "I know..."

* * *

He stops smoking for one day, and _they_ come back, taking their full opportunity to connect with him.

He's in their apartment, Mako in the shower, and the seven of them circle around him, their bones all clanking. Their cracking fingernails are all reaching out, grasping at his clothes, willing their pain unto him. Their touch sends all their energy into him, and his mouth opens in a silent scream as his eyes glow a harsh green light.

He is

_one: Hotah, on fire, burning away his flesh_

"No, stop, please..."

_two: Sasha, so numb, so cold, her heart froze solid_

"N-no...Mako, h-h-help!"

_three: Ling, pulling, pulling, pulling his limbs, stretching_ _him so far_

He coughs and gags, begins crawling to the bathroom door...

_four: Oroza, rocks smashing him to bits_

_five: Nyla, Nyla, sweet, sweet Nyla, her_ _head going crack, crack, crack_

_six: Kuzon, poor Kuzon, him being eating up by his dogs_

_seven: Vatani, her body all bound, and the tires rolling over her like a pancake, crushing her bones._ _Her body washing up on shore._

All of them surge into his mind and soul, and it's not just his eyes that are glowing, but his whole body now. And somehow, they've dragged him back into the living room (haha), Nyla standing right in front.

"N-nyla...Nyla..." his voice rasps," his eyes glowing, "Please, m-make them stop..."

_I can't. You left us, Bolin. You tried to make us go away, you tried to break our connection._

"N-no...No, I-"

_You tried to make us go away! _their voices all whine at once, and he screams, clutching his head in his hands. _You left us!_

_Why, Bolin? she asks, Why didn't you save us? You had the power to save us!_

_YOU HAD THE POWER TO SAVE US! _they yelp, and all appear around him closer, their breath hot on his cheeks.

"I'm sorry, I-I didn't mean-"

_YOU KILLED US ALL!_

_"NOO!"_ he lets out a guttural screams, and his head rolls back. All of a sudden, he feels like his body is being ripped apart from the inside out. He's forced down to his knees, as Mako comes barging into the room.

"BOLIN! What's wrong?" Mako drops down beside him, and Bolin snaps his glowing eyes open. "Bo...? What's wrong? Are they here?" Mako whips his head around the room, helpless seeing nothing, "_Leave my brother alone! Nyla, Kuzon! All of you, leave him alone!"_

He's grinding his teeth together, arms flailing helplessly at their forms. "N-no...go-go away..."

"Bolin, it's alright. Open your eyes, I'm right here."

"No...No, you're not The Judge..." his voice is dipped down, his body shaking.

"...What?" Mako asks.

"The-The Abdicator makes the Laws..."his lips say,"..h-he shall be...The Judge..."

"...What are you saying...? What are you...? Mako's eyes widen with realization. He remembers the bottom of the note that was in the morbid package.

Bolin's eyes snap open now, glowing brighter than before. His voice chants the eerie words.

_"The Abdicator makes the Laws, he shall be The Judge-_

"-Bolin, hey!" Mako shakes his shoulders.

_The List knows all, so shall be Marked_

_If any child goes against, they shall pay with blood-_

_"-_Fucking monkeyfeathers, Bolin! Snap out of it!" Mako rubs his cheeks, pinches him, pulls his hair-_anything._

_Twelve shall come to pass, and be the Sinner of this Mass,_

_...Twelve shall rule them all."_

Then finally, the light fades, and his head dips down in exhaustion. Mako shifts him in his lap. "Bo?"

Bolin's eyes flutter open, back to normal. "M-mako...? What happened? Ughh...I just had a major creep-fest, didn't I...?" his mutters.

Mako lets out a huge breath, and rubs the hair out his eyes, "N-nah..." his voice is shaky, "You just...um, fell asleep on the couch, and I wanted you to have some dinner before you went to bed."

Mako forces a small smile, and whether Bolin believes him or not, he doesn't call him out on it.

"S-so, um," Mako clears his throat and helps them both up, "What do you want? I can make some dumplings, or whatever?"

And Mako's eyes sting when he see's Bolin smile his first real smile in weeks. "Yeah, sure. Sounds great."

Mako spends the whole night in heart attack-mode, never taking his eyes off Bolin as he sleeps.

"I won't let him get you,"he whispers, as he rubs Bolin's hair, and pulls the blankets over him tighter, "I promise you, Bo."

* * *

Three days later, they are all huddled in Beifong's office, knocking back cups of coffee like it's going out of style.

"But, what I don't get is, why he's _cheating_," Mako says, and Bolin winces at the expression on his brother's face. "Bolin said that he plays by a certain set of rules. Like a game- that he thinks that his victims are cheating by having their abilities. So, why's _he_ going out of turn?"

The Abdicator had left them a note the night prior, clearly stating his boredom with things having to go in numerical order. He said that as a twist, he was going to do things randomly, and Number Ten on the List reported as a missing person as of this morning, was his way of doing just that.

"Evening out the score?" Chief Beifong suggests, "Make us more afraid because we thought we were a step ahead and now we're two steps back, probably. This was his game all along, he just used a surprise attack," and Bolin wants to scream because they _don't get it at all._

"The List was made to go in order, right? That's why he numbed the victims 'one-through...'," and the way his brother's voice pinches, being unable to say 'twelve', is heard throughout the room. "So now that he's going out-of-order, anyone could be next,"

The room is silent for a few moments, the weight of all the uncertainty nearly forcing them all down.

Finally, Bolin speaks, voice deep and stubborn like Mako's never heard, "There's not going to be a next victim," he says, "I'm not 'saving me for last'. He coming to me, or I'm going to him."

The faces look at him with mixed expressions, wide-eyed and agape mouths, "_What? _Bolin, no! There's no way I'm let-"

"-I'm not letting anymore kids die, waiting for him to try to get to me, Mako!" steel peels back from his teeth, his eyes burning, "I mean, really, what are we waiting around here for, sitting on our asses waiting for the next kid to turn up dead next week? He wants to play-we take the game to _him. _I go, lead him to me, and Chief brings in the back up. It's simple."

Beifong's eye shift, the pros and cons shuffling around in her head. "It's risky, -really risky- but the kid just may have a-"

Mako shakes his head furiously, "-No."

Bolin turns to him now, "Mako-

_"-NO."_

"But you're not even thinking about it! You're not even-"

"-I said _no_, Bolin! There is nothing to think about! I'm not using you as bait for some psycho killer who's after you!" he slams his teeth together, his jaw clenching, "_End of discussion."_

Both brothers glare, then turn away at the same time.

Korra comes over and steps between them._ "_Mako, I think Bolin has a point," Korra speaks up, "All of us, and the Police would be right there. We'd get a chance to get the upper hand on him. We could finally attack."

"Don't you think that would be a little obvious?" Mako slams his coffee down on the table, "Don't you think he'd know Bolin wouldn't be anywhere without us watching? He'd never attack without making sure we weren't there!" he exclaims, "Come on guys, really!"

"Mako," Asami says, "we're running out of alternatives."

Mako through his hands up, "What, did you all secretly agree on a plan before hand? Why are you all looking at me like that? Cheif-" he turns to Lin,"Please tell them how dangerous their plan would be. Tell them we can't go after the guy like that, it's too dangerous!"

"Why," Bolin remarks, face hard, "because I'm your brother, or because I'm Number Twelve?"

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I just mean that, maybe, it's not right for eleven people to die, just for one. I just think that we could all solve this easier if-"

"-If what?" Mako scoffs,voice catching "We give you up as some kind of Martyr?"

"Mako..."

"Well, if you all have a plan already made, I guess you don't need my input in this." Mako throws the case file across the table, and starts going out the door

"Mako, please," Bolin steps closer, eyes flickering, "Wait..."

"I-I need a drink..." he mumbles and shuts the door.

He feels the girls beside him, thier hands on his shoulders. They smile, small little smiles of comfort, because that's all they can do.

"What am I supposed to say to him?"

"Just..." Asami considers, "Let Cheif talk to him, she'll convince him hopefully."

Bolin scoffs and plops down in the chair. He rubs his temples. "Why sometimes, does life just have to..."

"'Suck?'" Korra offers.

"Yeah," Bolin bangs his head on the table, "_That."_

"I guess it's because..." she looks to Asami, who nods at her to continue, "because it's like Dark and Light. Without some bad, we wouldn't know how to cherish the good."

Bolin sniffs and wipes his eyes, "Guys...?" he whispers, "I could really use some good right now..."

_"Awee..."_

And Asami and Korra both embrace him in a hug.

* * *

What wakes Ramishu up is a sharp course of electricity that runs harshly through his body, ( he imagines it's what lightningbending feels like) and stings every interlocked web and vein that pumps blood inside of him. He doesn't scream, surprisingly, but that's probably because his throat is so sore.

"W-where am I...?"

He tries to focus on something; anything that would confirm where he is, or how he got here, but all his mind can emphasize is the nausea and the near lack of any light. He's exhausted, and dizzy, and if his eyes don't adjust to the dark soon, he might just wet himself. He just wants to go to sleep and convince himself ( because it's slowly coming back to him) that the memory of being bound and gagged by some weird guy with red-tipped hair and a lot of earrings was the result of his third night in a row studying past midnight, and not reality.

He closes his eyes, and tells himself that when he opens them, he'll wake up in his room with his mother nagging him to wake up for school.

The sharp punch across his jaw, gives him a rather rude awakening.

"Ughh...w-what...?"

Above him is a man, with horrid, beady looking eyes. He smells like something you'd put in alcohol, and has a pattern of scars on his face.

_"N-no..."_

"Actually, _yes._" The man brings out a blade and tests it's sharpness with his finger, "Hello, Number Ten-or, should I call you 'Ramishu'?"

Said terrified boy, gulps. Yep, his pants are definitely wet now. He shuts his eyes tight, and wills his body to melt away. He gasps with nothing happens.

The man clucks his tongue. "Don't even try trying to teleport; The List knows all your tricks."

"_Who are you...?_"

"Me? I am The Abdicator, and I've been looking forward to killing you for some time, Number Ten."

The man- The Abdicator- walks over and nonchalantly unhooks a bolt. Inside is a cage full of pythone-acondas. One of the most poisonous snakes.

"Now, let me ask you something, Number Ten. Are you hungry? Because my friends here are _starving._" Inside, the snakes, hiss and slither, thier fangs protruding. Their tails shake, the purple poison pumping through the razer-spikes.

"Well, I guess, I'll let them have the first pick, hmm?"

And the cage flies open, hundreds of poisonous snakes slithering towered him. They crawl up his legs, tangle around his neck. _Now_, he screams, for he knows it's the last sound he'll ever be able to make, _"P-please._..I didn't do anything-!"

"But you did." The Abdicator says, "Your whole kind-all you Abominations bring is injustice to this world. You must be stopped. The Spirits cannot leave this realm, but _you_ and everyone like you, _can_. And will."

The Abdicator makes a whistling sound with his teeth, and each snake simultaneously lifts up thier lethal tails, and stabs them into Ramishu's flesh.

The Abidcator sat and watched. Sometimes, he just didn't want to get his hands dirty. And, he had to say, it was quite entertaining.

The screams rung out, loud and desperate, until they stopped all at once. The sound of the head falling against the back of the chair, let him know his work was done.

"Oh," The Abdicator sung, "don't forget to say 'hi' to Twelve for me!" he chuckled to himself. He walked over and placed his blade right at the edge of the corpse's head,"Don't think you'll be needing this anymore." With one swift move, the head was rolling on the floor, the blood being licked up by the snakes.

"Huh," The Abdicator mused, as he held the now- decapitated head up by the hair. "Feeling a little light headed?" he laughed at his own joke, the snakes hissing in admiration.

"I think it's about time we sent our dear Twelve another warning, shall we? Or maybe even a psychic message for kicks."


	4. Wayward Son

Tell me everything that happened  
Tell me everything you saw  
They had lights inside their eyes  
They had lights inside their eyes

Did you see the closing window?  
Did you hear the slamming door?  
They moved forward, my heart died  
They moved forward, my heart died

Please, please tell me what they look like  
Did they seem afraid of you?  
They were kids that I once knew  
They were kids that I once knew

Did you touch them, did you hold them?  
Did they follow you to town?  
They make me feel I'm falling down  
They make me feel I'm falling down

Was there one you saw too clearly?  
Did they seem too real to you?  
They were kids that I once knew  
They were kids that I once knew

**"Dead Hearts"**

* * *

The sharp echo of her heels clicking against the newly-polished floor, brings her small comfort as the passive-faced, silent officer leads her down the labyrinth of halls that occupy Republic City Jail. Her reflection shining back at her through the waxy tiles, shows determined eyes, yet the curve of her mouth, and the slight shaking of her hands, prove otherwise. She stuffs her bitten-nailed fingers back in her pockets, hands fisting the possession tucked inside, to make sure it's still there.

She gazes left, and right, at the rectangles of rusting doors that line the walls; each square, three-barred window passing behind her with an unfamiliar, grim, sullen face hidden beneath its shadows. The Officer finally halts in front of a tightly-locked cell, and she takes a shaky breath.

With a wave of hands and a bend of the knees, the bolt unhooks, and the door grinds open with a high-pitched squelch that can only be from the excess layers of metal._ Extra precaution_, she thinks bitterly.

She frowns at her thoughts, for how can he be any threat, when shut up all the way down here? The unnecessary paranoia unnerves her.

"You have five minutes, Ms. Sato," the metelbender grunts, "Use them wisely." He fixes his green eyes just towered her right, for it seems that to look right at her, would only be making 'following orders' that much harder. She doesn't comment. She just locks her eyes with his-_Iknowwhatyou'rethinking;I'mnothinglikehim- _and he flicks his away, jaw set.

He nods stiffly. "Very well. Good luck," and spins on his heels.

She listens as his footsteps fade just outside the hall where she knows he is waiting, and she approaches the bars tentatively

The silhouette is slumped against a chair in the corner, his frame looking thinner than she remembered, and his chin and jaw are woven with a thick beard. She recalls the last time she saw him; nearly a year ago, with his flickering gold eyes narrowed in hatred as the Mecca Tank struck her.

She doesn't recognize this man now. She wonders if her past self would recognize her, if given the chance at a sneak peek to this point in time.

Her voice sounds...old. "Hello, Dad."

Those stranger eyes look up at her.

"._...Asami._"

She carefully takes the object out of her pocket, and unfolds it slowly; a crinkled picture of a man, with beady eyes and scars patterned on his face. She holds it up to him, as her other hand clenches around the bars. "What do you know about The Abdicator?"

Terror flashes across his face.

_"_No...that can't be. That..._that's impossible._"

* * *

"I can't believe we're really doing this," Mako grunted. "This is insane-"

"-What could go wrong?" Korra asked, "We have the Police backing him up."

Mako crossed his arms, peering down the road cautiously to where Bolin was standing in plain sight. "Yeah, but he probably _knows_ that. Why else would we leave Bolin out in the open? I just..." Mako sighed.

"Bolin sent him a message on the same radio frequency that he used to give his warnings, telling The Abdicator that he wanted it to be just them two." She put a hand on his shoulder, "The Abdicator accepted it. Now, all we have to do it wait."

"For something to go wrong." he mumbled bitterly. "I just...he... " and Mako took another concerned glance around to corner to Bolin, "I just don't have a good feeling about this..."

Lin shushed them, "Quiet, you two! Places everyone!"

To anyone who would be daring enough to walk this abandoned street late at night, it would appear to be just that- abandoned. A street lamp flickered here or there, and the rustling of paper scraping across the ground could be heard in the slight breeze, but other than that, it as bathed in shadows. A report had been sent out to the people a few days ago, ordering them all to be in their houses as soon as the sun went down-but they found that most citizens were too afraid to leave their homes anyway.

Eight children brutally killed in the span of less than two weeks, tends to strike fear in anyone.

The City that was meant to be the Beacon of Hope, the Center of Peace and Harmony, was once again, in a matter of less than a year, a zone of war and blood.

But, if they played their cards right, if this really worked...maybe this would all end. Maybe...

The clock in the center of town stroke midnight, the bell sounding out an eerie chime throughout the night. Everyone tensed, the signal put in action. Behind the shadows, and on top of buildings the metalbenders waited, everyone's eyes on the Earthbender in the middle of the road. Boin looked back with worried eyes.

"It's midnight." Mako hissed, "He said he be here at twelve! Why isn't he here? I don't-"

_"-Shh!"_ Korra slapped a hand over his mouth. "Just wait."

The beating of their heartbeats seemed to be the only way to count the seconds. The anticipation kept growing, sweat sliding down their backs. The officers on the ground gave Lin a questioning look, but she shook her head, indicating to remain at their post.

Mako counted off a whole minute in head. Then another. "Korra..." he said cautiously.

Then he saw Bolin clutch his forehead in a grimace, and seem to mutter something. At first Mako thought Bolin was just afraid- because he himself was trying fucking hard not to wet his pants as his fire heated in his clenched hands.

But then, he saw something in Bolin's eyes shift. Something like terror pass across his face. "_No._ You can't _do that_." Bolin groaned, seemingly talking to himself.

"Bo...?" Mako inched forward along the wall, but Korra pulled him back by his arm.

"Mako! You can't!" she chided, "You have to stay encase-"

Then five officers started screaming from above.

* * *

As soon as the clock stuck midnight, Bolin_ felt it._ Something inside him, his intuition telling him something was about to go _very_ wrong. He looked back at Mako and Korra, and desperately wanted to be by their side. To be in the safety of his bed- _anywhere but here._

Then it felt like his skull was being ripped apart from the inside. He grimaced and held his head, feeling the voice vibrate through him.

Bolin knew that voice...he...knew it...he...

Bolin eyes snapped open in fear.

_No. His voice._

The Abdicator spoke through his mind, sending stabs of pain with each word.

_My, my, what to we have here? A little cheater, have we?_

Bolin grit his teeth.

_Now, Bolin, what have I always told you about playing fair? You know our little deal was meant for just the two of us. So sad that these men of justice will have to pay the price for your selfishness._

Bolin trembled, his eyes shrinking in fear. _"No._ You can't_ do that._"

_Ohh, Bolin...You should know me better than that. I can, and I _will.

Screams broke out from above and everything went to hell.

The five bodies fell from the roof like sacks, the knifes driven through their skulls, glistening all the way down until they hit the pavement with dull _thud, thud, thud, thud, thud._

The blood was the color of a sickly crimson, and Bolin was too frozen to move as the liquid seeped from the bodies, and around his feet. He swallowed and swallowed, trying to catch his breath.

"_Fucking monkeyfeathers-!_" He heard curses and yells from the rest of the Police behind him, shouts of _where are you, show yourself!_ He heard his name being yelled, but he ignored it. A rock wall barrier was constructed around him, but he wildly struck his arms out and took it down.

He exploded. He became a star of busting fury, eyes glowing green. The anger consumed him. "_Hey! Where are you, you bastard_?! IT'S ME YOU WANT, ME!"he yelled into the night, motioning his arms to himself, "_You want me so fucking bad?! I'M RIGHT HERE, COME AND GET ME!"_

All at once, metalbenders descending from the roof tops, and began to surround him. No one dared look him directly in the eyes, but they brought their cables out for the ready. He felt someone grab him from behind, and he lashed out, kicking and screaming, only to find it was Mako, trying to keep him from bending and calling out.

"Bolin, stop!"

"Let go of me- _let me go!" _he kicked out a huge boulder from the ground. "It's my fault! _He told me_ he was gonna do it! He told me-" kick-"because it was my fault, and I was selfish-" Mako tries to turn him around-" I told him he couldn't-_and he did! _He did it anyway!" he hollers, his vision tinted in glowing green. Somehow he in running down the street, but he falls to the ground when someone- or two people- tackle him to the ground.

Mako holds his arms down as he sits on his chest, and Korra brings out her water.

"Get off of me!" he tries to push Mako off, but the Firebender uses all his weight to keep him from getting up.

"Gahh-Bo-calm down!"

"I have to stop him! I'm the only one who can! I have to stop...have...to...s-stop..."

His voice becomes slurred and his breathing slows as Korra works her glowing water around his head. "This should put you to sleep for a while, Bolin." She says, "I'm sorry."

"N-no..." he mumbles, his eyes becoming heavy, "I h-have to-" he weakly moves his head left and right- "t-to...s-top him...s'my f-fault..."

_"No, it isn't."_

The icy liquid is somehow cooling to his pounding head, and his eyes become too heavy to close. So tired...The last thing he sees before he blanks out, besides Mako and Korra's sad faces, are_ them. _The five dead metalbenders, thier forms rippling and swirling around him. They look at him with disdain, contempt, pity.

_You are cursed and blessed, Earthbender,_ one says, _For you have no idea of what is_ _yet to come. You will rule them all._

And just like that, they start to fade away. But they'll be back. They'll always be back.

Nyla sadly shakes her head at him, the gash on her temple still shiny with blood, _You should have played by the rules._ she whispers, and fades into the night.

The darkness takes him, and the only thing he knows is that no matter how many times he dies, he'll always come back again. The problem is that he isn't sure he wants to anymore.

* * *

On a hill overlooking a vast part of the city, Maven, and The Abdicator stood, hidden by the rocks. They locked thier gazes upon Air Temple Island, where their little prize was fitfully sleeping, with that snot-nose of a brother watching over him. "The time is coming soon, Maven," he inhaled with a sadistic smile crawling up his face. "He will be ours."

Maven laughed, and stuck his sword in a grazing deer-like Spirit, and pulled it out fast, practicing. It made one pained shriek and fell to the ground. "Indeed, sir. But," Maven quirked an eyebrow, "how _did_ you manage to get inside his mind like that? His face was _priceless! 'N-no,'" _Maven made his lips tremble, his voice high-pitched, in mock imitation of Number Twelve, '''y-you c-can't do t-that.'"

The Abidcator laughed, "Maven, my dear fellow, you are too good. The Spirits do tell me some fine tricks, and quite frankly, Twelve should be grateful that I did. At least I was kind enough to give him a warning. Had I not intruded his mind, he might have killed those poor unfortunate souls by accident on his own accord." he stated, "And we cannot let him no the truth of what he can really do, or _who _he really _is,_ until the time is right, Maven. Everything must fall into place."

Maven clucked his tongue. "I can picture his face already," he purred. He shook his head in mock-pity, "Oh, that poor boy."

"That '_poor boy,'_" The Abdicator remarked cooly, "Is the key to all our plans. He'll give the Avatar a run for her money. That_ little girl_ is not the only one who is predestined."

"Soon, sir?"

"Very soon, my friend. Very soon."

* * *

Bolin's consciousness returned in bits and pieces. He was aware of a pounding in his head, but that was all he could really feel. He could make out voices, but he couldn't quite open his eyes or move around, so they didn't seem to realize he could hear them. He was trapped in an in-between state; not that he was complaining, because he really wasn't ready to face the world again just yet.

"...Those were five of my best men, Tenzin."

"I know, Lin."

"No, you _don't know!_ It's my fault they were killed, tonight. What kind of Chief am I, if I can't protect my people, let alone my own damn Officers?"

"Lin...What happened tonight is no one's fault. This maniac just wants to get at us, from all angles."

A weary sigh, "Well, he's doing a damn good job of it."

Tenzin's voice got lower, "Are you sure there isn't anything I can do?"

"Of course there's something you can do. Find out anything you can about this guy. Find books or something. Just...Just make sure Jinora stays on the Island."

"I have barely taken my eyes off any of my children since Amon."

"Spirits...those poor families. The kid blames himself enough as is, he doesn't need any more guilt on his plate. Mako said he started smoking to make the visions and ghosts go away."

"_Ghosts?"_

"Of the killed children."

"Dear, Ta and La..."

"Tenzin...?"

"Yes?"

"Do you really think the kid is the one?"

"...For his sake, and everyone else's, I prey that isn't the case."

The conversation continued after that, but it was fuzzy and indistinct in Bolin's ears, and even that soon slipped away.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.

_They were kids that I once knew._

* * *

_The next evening._

* * *

The little fist knocked against the door with an echo. The slit in the window opened, showing a set of amber eyes through the crack.

"_Password."_

"Chan, it's _me."_

_"_I'm going to need to see some identification." the 'doorman' stated.

"Shut up, Chan. Just open the damn door before I break the table again. You know I can. I can see through the wall."

Chan groaned, "Geez, Ta Gee. Can't you take a joke?"

The rusty door opened, allowing the frustrated boy inside what was nicknamed 'The Ware House.' It was really a little shack-like thing in an alley on the west side. But, if the appearance kept people away, then it made it all the more safer for kids like 'them'.

Or make that the three that were left, because as Ta Gee glanced around the shack, he noticed they were short one 'freak' as Chan so wonderfully liked to call themselves.

"Eight kids like us have been slaughtered in the last two weeks," Ta Gee declared,"I hardly see how you can even joke at a time like this." Despite his warning, he focused his gaze on the coffee table in the corner, and, with a gleam of white light tinting his eyes, made the table fly off the ground and against the wall.

"_Hey!_" Chan nearly fainted.

Ta Gee clucked, "Now _that's_ funny."

"Fuck you, man. I had to bribe a guy with two weeks of my allowance to get that thing, plus I had to drag it in here myself." Chan stroked the broken table leg melodramatically,"It made the place classy!"

"You just liked it, because it was Mie's favorite color." Ta Gee replied, and smiled as his friend blushed. "Speaking of which..." he looked around the room once more, "Where is Mie? You told her the right time to be here, didn't you?"

"Yes, genius. I didn't forget to tell her. But she called last minute- said something about having a lot of homework and her parents wanting her to stay home or whatever." He plopped down on the couch, giving the smaller boy a look when he couldn't prop his feet up on the table in style. "I'm telling you, dude, if her parents ever found out what Mie could do, or that she was like us, they'd hire people to seel the house shut from the inside out, and never let her out of their sight again."

"Gee, I wonder why...Maybe the fact that a serial killer is targeting us, may have something to do with it."

"Shut up, man...Nothing's gonna happen to us." Chan pushed the button on the radio, turning the dials nonchalantly. "I'm not afraid of a guy with a knife. I'm not afraid of anyone. If that bastard ever came at me, I'd phase right through 'em. I'm _untouchable._"

At that last comment, a form rippled on the opposite side of the couch, until a girl in a green dress, suddenly appeared in a matter of a second.

Chan yelped and fell of the coach with an embarrassing thud.

"You were saying, 'Mr. Untouchable?'" she said.

"Mie!" Ta Gee ran to give her a hug, while Chan grumbled in defeat on the floor. "You've been here the whole time, haven't you?"

"Please, you boys should know me better than that." she smiled knowingly.

"Damn it, woman, do you have to do that right next to me?"

"So much for not being afraid," she smirked, "Oh, and by the way, my favorite color is purple."

_"Told you." _Ta Gee was beginning to be happy he came.

"So, darlin, how'd your Ma and Pa let you leave their sight?" he moved closer to give her a peck on the cheek.

"Simple. It's called _trust."_

"And by _that_, you mean, you snuck out, past the curfew that our _wonderful and capable police force_ set in action?" he quipped.

"Pretty much," she laughed uneasily.

"Anyway...seriously, guys. Not to sound totally depressing-

"-Yeah, because you're _never_ like that-"

"-But it's only us left, and a guy named 'Bolin'. So I think we should start forming some sort of-"

"_Bolin!?"_ Mie shrieked, "You mean the probending, Nutuk staring, Avatar's friend, Bolin?"

"No, the other one." Chan said. Ta Gee chucked a pillow at him.

"_What?"_ he said, his face dark with anger,"Why do you sound so worshop-y? Encase you haven't realized by now, that asshole is the reason why we're in hiding. He's the reason why Kuzon, and all the other's are dead! So don't go all googly-eyed, Mie, and think you're gonna get some autograph, because _he's_ the one the bastard wants. Your little Mover Star crush, is the freakiest of us all; the big bad Number Twelve that's gonna have us all six feet under by the end of the month."

Mie whimpered and looked away.

"Good job, man. Who's the depressing one _now_?"

"Whatever. You were the one who said to be serious, and I am. I mean, Agni, I wanna steal a car, put you guys in the back and high-tail it out of this damn city. To _hell_ with this hiding."

"What about our parents?" Mie asked shyly, "We can't just leave."

"Maybe you guys can't. By mine parents wouldn't care." Chan said, folding his arms.

"Your parents don't know," Ta Gee looked at his friend with sad eyes, "do they?"

In all honesty, the fact that, three months ago, he had mysteriously fallen through his bedroom floor, and landed with half his body sticking out through the ceiling/floor, should have been a sure-fire sign that he was different. But like everything his parents did, they wanted things _perfect, perfect, perfect. _No trouble here, nope, no cause for alarm.

Chan's father had pulled him out of the floor, and plopped him back in bed. The next morning, his parents had pretended like it never happened, and never spoke of it again. Whenever Chan tried to bring it up, or show them again with a little example, it was always followed by some excuse that _dinner was ready, or that's nice dear, or can we talk about it later, hon, I'm busy now._

"They know," he said quietly, "They just won't accept that I have anything 'wrong' with me. And I really don't know which is worse."

After a few sad moments of silence, Mie spoke up.

"What about the Avatar?"

Ta Gee asked, "What about her?"

"She and detective Mako have tried helping kids like us, right? Why don't we go to her?"

Chan scoffed, "Yeah, like they can help us. Haven't you heard? They tried catching the guy last night-and what happened? Five officers-five fully trained adults- were killed, struck right through the heads. No one can help us now."

And with that, the three friends huddled in silence, alone and afraid. The inevitable upon them.

* * *

"Bolin, please open the door!" Asami banged her fist on the room the Earthbender was staying at on the Island, "Please, Bolin, you need to eat something."

She huffed and leaned her head against it, just as Mako came around the corner. "I told you it wouldn't do any good," he sighed, "He's locked himself in there since last night. He won't even talk to me."

"Agni..." she muttered, "Was it really five officers?"

The grim expression on Mako face said more than words ever could. "Bolin tried to go off by himself, after. Said The Abdicator specifically told him it was his fault, and that he was going to strike." Mako's eyes fell, "He completely blames himself. Trust me, it's all I can do from keeping myself from banging open the door." Mako didn't want to tell anyone that he had stayed outside the room all night, listening to Bolin crying. That was his job, no one else's.

A few moments passed. "Well," Asami began, I guess I'll just leave the food here, then." She took one last look at the door, "Do you want to, um, see what Korra's doing?"

"Yeah, I guess." He had pounded on his door and called all night, and by now it was clear Bolin didn't want to talk to anyone.

Then went down the hall.

* * *

Bolin didn't think he ever wanted to leave this room ever again.

The weight of it all, all the guilt and blame pressed too heavy on his aching head. Each of their screams, each crack and every drop of blood was like a punch in the gut, saying he was responsible.

He bit his lip hard enough that it bled to stop himself from screaming, his teeth sinking through the flesh of his bottom lip. One of _them- _he didn't know which one- was _inside_ him. His eyes glowing green, _them _making his arms move against his will, as he dabbed at the blood from his lips with his finger, and began writing on the wall in a sickly red.

His stained fingers moved on their own accord against the wall, red dripping on the floor. With each word that he painstakingly wrote, his mouth formed the horrid words:

_Number Twelve shall rule them all. _

_Number Twelve shall rule them all._

_Number Twelve shall rule them all._

Over and over. Across the headrest, on top of the dresser, as far as he could reach- as far as they could _make_ him reach. _Pull, pull, pull your limbs so far_.

Everything was in a glowing green, and he felt like his eyes were on fire. He groaned a horrible noise, his pounding head making him feel nauseous. Then, all of a sudden, his teeth clamped down on his wrist-_hard-_ blood oozing out of the teeth marks. They weren't through with him yet. He was his own paint brush.

They made him dab at his wrist, needing to fill in the other wall.

"P-please..." he begged, "Stop, it _hurts._.."

Why didn't the bastard just kill him already? No, because that would be too kind. He never wanted him dead in the first place. This was all part of the game.

It seemed like a lifetime had passed until the other wall was filled. He wasn't sure how much blood he had lost, but by the time it was all filled up, the room was starting to spin. He felt a surge run through him, his body consumed with light-then fade away.

He crumpled to the floor, gasping for breath. He spit blood onto the floor, and desperately garbed for a pillowcase to wrap around his wrist.

He hadn't cried himself to sleep like this since he was a little kid. He needed his brother more than he ever had in his life, but he found himself locking the door, pushing everyone away. He was cursed. He was too horrible to be around. It was all he could to keep himself from banging his own head against the wall, or taking one of the kitchen knifes and slitting his wrists.

As he wiped his eyes again, huddled in a ball on the bed, he realized what he had to do.

He had started all this, and he was going to end it. If the monster wanted him, so be it. He couldn't friggin take it anymore. No more kids were going to die, because of him.

He got up, slowly, on shaking legs. He knew what he had to do.

He was playing by his own rules now.

* * *

Mako could hardly sleep that night, too worried about Bolin to go into his own old bedroom, too paranoid to shut his eyes for more than a few minutes at a time. But around midnight, Korra found him, and practically dragged him from outside of Bolin's door, to his own bed that he once used. He must have been more tired than he thought, because when he opened his eyes, the sun was shining through the window, and the yapping of the little kids could be heard in the kitchen.

He yawned and stretched, his stomach hungry. But, after a moment...something, just felt _wrong._ It was a different kind of feeling than Bolin was experiencing; this type of fear was an older brother's instinct, forced upon him at an early age from living on the streets.

He flung the covers up, and pulled on his shirt. He was just about to open the door when he saw it.

A note, folded up by his bedside table, the ink still smelling fresh.

Mako unfolded the paper with shaking hands, and had to sit down upon reading the first few words:

_Dear, Mako:_

_By the time you read this, I'll already be gone. I don't expect you to understand, but this is something I have to do myself. Too many people have died because of me, and I won't let anymore meet the same fate. I know what I have to do now, to end this. The Abdicator wants me, and we both know that this meeting will be inevitable, so I'm going to him to put an end to this. Whatever he uses me for, I just hope you can forgive me. And, if I die, I just want you to know you were the best big brother I could ever ask for, and I love you more than you could ever know._

_Please don't blame yourself. This is my fate, not yours. You told me that my visions could help people, and in the end, no one could have predicted this outcome. So whatever happens to me, just promise that you'll keep on going. Keep going for Korra, and Asami, the Air family. For Mom, and Dad, and me. The girls need you, they're your family now. Never forget who you are, and please try to remember me how I was before. You've sacrificed everything for me, and now it's time to do some sacrificing of my own._

_Goodbye, brother,_

_Love, Bolin_


	5. The Sinner's Call

_Spirits of the night communicate with me,_  
_of my visions of the future of what is yet to be._  
_  
_

_Until the moment comes around,_  
_like I've been here once before,_  
_and I'm questioning the truth._  
_No escaping da ja vu!_

_If I could harness this power, assume absolute control_  
_of my visions from the future, no one will ever know_  
_that I've seen the day you die and I tried to change it._  
_You are running short of time, you'll just sit there waiting..._

_'Til the moment comes around,_  
_like you've been there once before,_  
_and you're questioning the truth._  
_No escaping da ja vu!_  
_'Til the moment comes around,_  
_like we've been here once before._  
_Now there's nothing left to lose,_  
_no escaping da ja vu!_

_Faces become strangely familiar,_  
_stumbling upon traces of my visions._

_Now I see a shadow of a man,_  
_in my silhouette he stands._  
_The wisdom of my premonition comes to life_  
_I was just a kid back then,_  
_but now I'm here to take revenge._

Haken-Visions_._

* * *

Note: (*) indicating words from original anonymous prompt.

Also, I would like to thank a lovely lady, whose username goes by _Dcdishy_, for always helping me improve my writing with her wonderful ideas! You rock, girl!

* * *

Mako doesn't know how long he sits there in his room, reading the letter over and over again, feeling like his world has just shifted. By the time he looks at his clock, twenty minutes have passed, and his eyes don't seem to want to stop watering anytime soon. His eyes trail down the note one last time.

_...Whatever he uses me for, I just hope you can forgive me. And, if I die, I just want you to know that you were the best big brother I could ever ask for, and I love you more than you could ever know..._

Not him, not his baby brother...This wasn't what was supposed to happen...

_...Please don't blame yourself. This is my fate, not yours..._

"No, not you. Not you, too..."

_...You've sacrificed everything for me, and now it's time to do some sacrificing of my own..._

_Goodbye, brother,_

_Love, Bolin_

His clenches the paper in his hand, smearing the ink. He bites his lip, holding back a sob.

_"Bolin..."_

He punches the wall.

Once.

Then, twice. And curses. Curses like no one's around to hear him.

Mako knows it useless, but he has a stupid hope that maybe, his brother is still here. At least, that's what he tells himself as he bolts down the hall to Bolin's old room. He rams open the door -_hard- _just like he's been trained- and the sight makes his stomach twist even more.

Red- all over. The walls stained in some kind of sickly red, the smell he could never forget. Blood.

_Bolin's blood._

He feels his face drain of color and the world tilt for a moment, and he has to grab the door to steady himself. He walks over on shaking legs to one of the walls, the horrid liquid still dripping to the floor.

It's all over the room. Over and over with the shaky left hand of his brother's that he used to guide up and down the papers as he taught him how to write in younger, more innocent times. His death sentence marks the wood like writing on a tombstone.

_Twelve shall rule them all._

_Twelve shall rule them all._

_Twelve shall rule them all._

Mako sticks his shaking hand out, and puts his finger to the red. As soon as his flesh meets the crimson writing, he pulls back with a gasp. The blood hisses with smoke, and his finger stings as if burnt. As if he bent it with his fire.

Then a sound comes from behind. A squelching sound, like rubbing your finger on a wet surface. Goosebumps rise on his skin, as if the room just got colder.

"W-who's there...?" he asks the seemingly empty room. He snaps his head around, and nearly yelps in fear. The smooth surface of the dresser mirror freezes over, crystals cracking and crawling across the glass. Mako inches closer, fear bubbling up in his stomach.

Then, louder now, the squeaking sound begins again. Mako watches with wide, trembling eyes, as characters draw themselves into the fogged glass with an invisible hand. The writing is jagged, yet the message clear:

**YoU...**

**CaNt... **

**SaVe...**

**HiM...**

**TwElve is OuRs...**

Will a yell, Mako punches the glass before he even has time to process what his emotions are doing. His fist slams into the mirror, blooded shards flying everywhere. His shoulders heave for a moment, adrenaline making his breaths heavy.

"Oh, yeah?" he says, wiping his hand with his shirt, his fists clenching, "_Watch me, you bastards."_

* * *

The fog was making his head swim, and it only seemed to get thicker, the farther down the decrepit streets Bolin went. The buildings were crumbling, and looked like a small gust of wind would blow them over, which only served to deepen his depressing mood. Long green vines weaved themselves in and out of the broken windows, spiraling out of the cracks of roofs which flying Spirits perched upon. The creatures' squawks and calls could be heard for miles- that is, if anyone dared to come anywhere near where the Spirits marked their new homes. The Spirits claimed the more downtrodden, less glamorous parts of the city, not liking all the loud hustle and bustle of humanity, and needles to say, people were alright with that. It seamed that maybe the Spirits would leave citizens alone; and they did for the most part, unless provoked. People needed to understand that you couldn't just walk into a nest of vines like it was a store, or chop then up with saws unless you wanted to be chopped up as well. Which basically, was how his very first vision was seen, and unfortunately, played out.

Maybe that's why he found himself coming back here.

*"_I don't think I like this whole 'vision' thing," he said._

_Mako put a hand on his shoulder. "I know it doesn't feel like it, Bo, but you saved a lot of people today."_

_Bolin sighed, pain on his face. "But I couldn't save them all."_

_"That's not always possible," Korra said. "After the fight with Vaatu, Tenzin told me that what's important was that I did the best that I could, whether things went wrong or not."_

_"As scary as your visions are," Mako added, "I think they can help make the world a better place."_

_"Do you really think so?" Bolin asked as they finally reached the car._

_"I know so." Mako gave his brother a genuine smile.*_

Since Korra had taken down the vines and energy-bent all the Spirits back into their homes all those weeks ago, more were only in their place. The vines grew thicker and wilder than ever before, yellow and blue eyes blinking through the darkness. Bolin gazed back at them, feeling more connected to them then any person in the world at the moment.

"Hey..." his voice didn't sound like his own, "Remember me?"

He got a few chirps in reply. One four-legged sloth-like Spirit crawled out of the nest and perched up on the vines closest to him. It cocked its head to the side, and Bolin swore he could almost read its thoughts.

"I know. Thought you never see me again, huh?" he sighed, "Got room for one more in there?" The concept of crawling into a dark nest with Spirits and never being found again, was probably one of the least depressing thoughts his mind had come up with these past few weeks. It was better than standing on the ledge of Air Temple Island and wondering just how far the drop was, or how cold the water may be, for sure.

The Spirit just flicked it's long, oily-looking tail, and scurried back inside.

"Thought so." And with that, Bolin started walking again. _Deadman walking, _he could have imagined the words, but then again, if he chalked up everything he'd been seeing and hearing to his imagination, well, then, he'd gladly sign his own papers to the Funny Farm if it could keep him from what he was about to do. But he had a feeling that he had sighed his death sentence long ago, and you know, _rules are fucking rules _apparently.

The wonderful truth was, the only thing that was keeping himself from contemplating the length of the fall, or the frigid chill of the water as he plugged, was the thought of his friends, and the knowledge that he had to _win_ this fight. Win this, or die trying, were the two simple rules, and he will determined to win. He had considered screaming that Son-of-a-monkeyfeather's name all through the night, but in the end, realized that that monster wouldn't be found unless he wanted to, and was really, much better at finding him, than vs verse. So Bolin walked the lonely streets in a depressing daze with his fate looming over his shoulders, already accepting the fact that he would never see any of his loved ones again.

He sat down in a particularly da-ja-vu inducing alleyway, folding his arms, and trying very hard not to show his fear. Was a damn good thing he had pissed before he left, or else his intimidating scowl would be in vain.

"I'm waiting, bitch. Come out and play like a big boy." Bolin smiled at himself; monsters could bring out the worst in people. He was done being a scared little boy.

* * *

After Mako's fractic display of the note that was left, and the state of Bolin's room, somehow the three friends had managed to calm down enough to try to think of some kind of plan. Asami came in, holding something that looked like a tape recorder. "I went to see my Dad yesterday, and asked him if he knew anything about The Abdicator."

"Um, that's great, Asami," Korra said, "But, why would _he_ know anything about The Abdicator?"

"Well...it may be a long shot, but hear me out." The other two sat down and listened to what she had to say, "While I was looking at his picture, something struck me. His scars...didn't really seem like scars; they looked like they were in the shape of a symbol..."

"A symbol...? How do you figure that?" Korra urged her on.

"My Dad-," she cleared her throat, "Hiroshi used to take a lot of ancient folklore and Mythology classes when he was at University, and when I little, he used to tell some of them to me, like for bedtime stories and stuff. And one day I was looking through his stuff, and I saw this symbol in one of his books...and I'm not positive, but I think it's the same symbol as the one on The Abdicator's face..."

"So..." Mako considered, "he's cursed? Has a kind of power from those stories you read?" He asked desperately.

"Actually," Asami said, her voice grave, "I think he _is_ the story. Or at least part of it. And Bolin- he may be the other part."

Their mouths dropped open, their face confused, "Asami, my brother just turned seventeen, how can he be part of some ancient story? That's crazy!"

"I know how it sounds. Just listen to this." She put the tape recorder on the table, and pressed the 'play' button. The conversation between herself and Hiroshi played back.

_What do you know about The Abdicator?_

_No...that can't be. That's...that's impossible. _

_What is? You've heard of him before?_

_..Yes, but...but he's not a real person. He's just in the legends! The myths I used to study..._

_Well, he's a real person for us, and if we don't get more information on him, more people are going to die. Dad, you have to tell me what you know._

_Alright... but it's a long one. You'll have to ask the guard for more time._

_Tell me._

_The story goes that, long ago, thousands of years ago, this man angered the Spirits. He was jealous of them having all this power, and some even being immortal, while humans suffered and were weaker. With the help of a Lion Turtle, he went into the Spirit World, and stole these baby Spirits from their mother, and brought them back to the physical world. He wanted to do...experiments..._

_Experiments...? What do you mean?_

_On the Spirits, you see. He was crazy, wanted a lot of power. Some Spirits are immortal, some are not. They all have different abilities. I'm not sure I remember the finer details, but somehow, the mother came to seek revenge on man for killing her babies. She put a curse on the man and his name, engraving that symbol on his face for all eternity. The Symbol means "The Judged". The Spirit said something along the lines of, 'if you want to be like us so bad, then you shall live forever in your pitiful human body, eternally looked down by Spirits everywhere for the harm you have caused.' The Spirit placed the symbol of Judgement on his face, and he was forced to forever live in torture, always tormented by the Spirits, and looking like an old man..._

_But he looks young in this picture. How can he be immortal, but look like an old man?_

_They are a few variations of the story, but the most common ending is this: He took on the name 'The Abdicator' to continue out his work to try to prove that humans were better, and anyone having any unfair advantage given by the Spirits, were vile in his eyes. Eventually, it goes that he somehow found this river that gave him youth, and it only made him more crazy. I never found much detail about this so-called river, but that's what I read. He lives out his eternity killing all those he feels will help put his plan in action, looking for his sacred one that will be the key to it all._

_'Plan'? What plan? Does this have to do with the kids he's killing? What he wants with Bolin? Is Bolin the 'key'?_

_I do not know the specifics of it. All versions talked of some world-changing plan of evil that he strived to archive, but either pages were ripped out, or it was in a language I could not decipher... There was a reason I wanted you to stay out of my study room. Some people think that is one of most interesting mysteries of all time, and have tried very hard to find out what his 'plan' is. But if he wants your friend so badly, he must be part of this evil plot._

_How can I get more information on the plan?_

_That is something that, unfortunately, only he himself will speak of to whomever he chooses. And if it's your friend that he wants, then I am sorry, but I don't think you'll be seeing him again._

_Don't worry, we're going to stop him. Thank you, dad, this was very helpful._

_Asami...what I said about your mother, what I did to you, I know you can never forgive me-_

And she pushed the button to stop the recording.

The silence could be heard throughout the room. The kind of silence that cuts so loud that even a pin dropping sounds like an avalanche. Breathes were held, and the tension could be cut with a knife.

"So," Asami said glumly, after a minute, "What are we going to do? How are we going to find them?"

"He's going to find _us,"_ Mako stated, "And we are going to find Numbers Seven, Nine, and Eleven." He took the List out of his pocket; how he hadn't managed to char the damned thing to ash yet was beyond him. He pointed to the name that was not checked off yet. "Number Seven; Ta Gee. Water Tribe. Age fourteen. Abilities, Telekinesis."

"Where does it say he lives?" Korra asked. She glanced at the address, and cursed.

Asami frowned. "What?"

"He lives on the other side of the city. We'll have to take Oogiee."

...

Once Korra was getting the saddle on Oogiee, securing the binds as fast as her worried mind could, she noticed a disturbance by the docks. Or more so, something coming _toward_ them, from the docks. A literal boatload of people came off the ferry, their faces hard like stone, scowls darkening their faces as they marched towered the three friends.

_"Avatar Korra!" _

"Oh, _great." _Mako muttered. Korra had never heard her own name stated so bitterly, with such..._venom_ before. She knew she had messed up a lot, and was far from perfect, but these people looked like they were out for blood. She braced herself for the worst, as the crowd come up close to them.

"What's the problem everyone?" she stood boldly, shoulders back-strictly contrasting her confidence at the moment.

"Oh, I'll tell you what's the problem!" One man shouted, pointing a finger at her, "Our children are _dead,_ and it's because of _you! _How can you just sit here on your Island when there's a maniac on the lose?!"

"I'm not sitting around! We're trying to get to the bottom of-"

"_Trying?" _a woman mocked, her eyes blood-shot, and hair a mess of tangles, "'Trying' to what? Make peace with all your little Spirit friends? You brought the Spirits into our world; this never would have happened if not for you! M-my little Sasha wouldn't be-_ohhh!" _

Korra watched as she broke off into a sob, her hand clasped over her mouth, with hunched shoulders. A man wrapped her up in his arms, sending Korra a glare over his wife's shoulder.

Korra's heart shattered. The connection clicked. This was the non-bender woman who spoke up to her that night in Dragon Flats Borough under Tarrlok's oppression.

_Mommy, look! It's the Avatar!_

_Please, help us! You're our Avatar, too!_

Korra brought a hand up to her eyes, shame coating her. She couldn't stand to look at the woman now. Her eyes that night had been so determined not to let anyone tell her 'no', her voice had been so strong as she called out to Korra in the panicking crowed. It had given her some hope.

Now they were full of hatred, and her sobs were going to haunt Korra's sleep for weeks to come, she was sure. Poor Sasha...

"You see what you've done?" another man retorted, his face red in rage, "All these families are broken, and it's on your head!" the man inched closer, hands heating up with a sparkle of flames."This never would have happened with Avatar Aang!"

Korra was about to defend herself, but Mako stepped up. "How can you blame Korra for this? Yes, she brought the Spirits into our world, but it's not the Spirit's fault, or Korra's! If your going to place your anger and pain on someone, do it to The Abdicator! He's the monster here, not Korra! Korra's risked her life countless times to save the city, and the_ world_, so I'd remember for your sake who you're talking to!"

"Watch your mouth, boy!" Flames licked the corners of the man's lips, "I'd remember for your sake who your brother is! He's the freak the basted wants to play with, and killed our kids to get to him! We know which side you're on!" Mako snarled.

"Side?" Korra blinked, "We're on your side! We're just trying to help you! We're going to find The Abdicator and put a stop to him!"

"Yeah? Like that'll ever happen..." a younger man muttered.

"We were just on our way across town now," Asami offered, putting a hand on Korra's shoulder, "We have some new information on The Abdicator, and if you let us leave now, we'll stand a better chance!"

"Oh, no! No one's going _anywhere!"_

A scream broke on then, with an eruption of earth and fire from the crowd. Mako quenched the heat, while Korra stomped the ground hard, and cut off the earthbender's attack. The people kept charging at the three of them; those who couldn't use elements, used their hands and feet, one even had a pocket knife. Asami was holding her own against two men, dodging kicks and punches. The ground trembled and some people fell. Korra put earth shackles around their writs to keep the people in place from causing more harm.

The people hollered out curses and threats, thrashing on the ground wildly in attempt to break free of the earth shackles. "You're the worst Avatar ever!" a young man screamed, who couldn't have been much older than them.

Korra tried not to show her shame. She swallowed hard. "We're going to stop him! You're children will not be in vain! We're trying to-"

But the firebender was furious, and it was all Mako could do to counter his attacks. "Trying's not good enough!" the humidity could be felt increasing every second.

"You killed my son!" he screeched, vengeful flames flying through the air. Mako got knocked down by a rock, and Korra went on the defensive, killing each flame he sent at her.

"Please! I don't want to hurt you! We aren't your enemy!"

His face just got darker, and his mouth opened wide. A huge breath of flame flew out his mouth, white hot.

"_Asami!"_

It was nearly too close. Korra tried to push her out of the way, and before either of them could bend the fire out, a flash hit the girl's shoulder, charring a part of her hair. She yelled and fell to the ground, clutching her shoulder with tuffs of black hair smoking.

"You're gonna pay for that!" The water that Korra bent from the bay was fast and cold enough to give him frost bite, but she froze the man in place, leaving only his face exposed.

Then suddenly, Korra heard her own voice cut through the chaos. "STOP!" Her voice was deep, somehow not fully her own, and her eyes gleamed bright from the power of the Avatar State. She didn't remember willfully calling upon it. She felt Raava inside her, telling her to bring peace.

Everyone froze, the air dancing around. Everyone's eyes were glued on her. The powerful voice within Korra rung out. "_Your children shall not be in vain, or forgotten. The world is changing, and so are the people. If we want to achieve peace with the Spirits in our own world, we must first accept the change within ourselves, and find peace with who are now. A new Era has begun, and the people are closer to the Spirits than ever before. The children of this generation will bring a new era of peace with their abilities, and shall pass on their talents to those who will come after us. Just as their will be benders, and non-benders, Spirits shall thrive and live among us, as well as our people who have been enlightened with these talents. They will be your parents, your sisters, and brothers, your cousins and your children. But we must learn not to fear these people, but to accept them as part of who we are as a people in this New Age. We must learn to accept the Change, externally, as well as internally. Only then will we be on the right path."_

The air settled down, and the light in Korra's eyes dimmed. She stumbled a bit, falling onto one knee in sudden weakness, but Mako helped her up.

"That was...that was _incredible,_ Korra." he pulled her up to her feet, "Are you alright?"

She moaned, "Y-yeah...I'm fine. Asami?" they looked back at their fallen friend, who was still on the ground. They rushed over to her.

All the people were silent, in awe at what Korra had just said. No one seemed to say a word as Mako helped turn over Asami. Korra bent over water from the bay, and her hands started to illuminate with her healing glow as they worked on Asami's burnt shoulder. Mako delicately pulled the tuffs of black, singed hair from her face, the brittle pieces crinkling in his fingers.

"Asami?" Korra asked gently. She smiled when she saw her friend's green eyes flutter open, slight pain clouding them, "Hey, Asami. You're gonna be okay. I know it hurts, but you gotta keep your eyes open for me, okay? I'm gonna fix you right up."

She moaned something, her brows furrowed in pain. "H'said he was s'ry..."

Korra leaned in closer, "What?" She moved her hands back and forth across the burn, the red skin torn around the front, part of her collarbone blackened. Korra swallowed. She would probably have a scar.

"H-he said..." she swallowed, and licked her dry lips, "...H'was s'ry."

"Who did?" Mako asked desperately, "Bolin?"

She shook her head slightly,"No...w-when I went'o visit'im..." her eyes closed again, and Mako shook her awake, "He said he was sorry...wanted to-to make it up to me..."

Mako and Korra looked at each other, realization and pity in their eyes. She was talking about her dad. What Hiroshi had started to say before Asami had turned the tape off.

Mako sighed and pushed the hair out of her eyes. "Shh... just rest. We're gonna fix you up, then go find those kids, okay?"

"Umhmm..." and she closed her eyes again.

Korra swallowed and shut her eyes in concentration. "Mako," she whispered, "I don't know if I can heal this without leaving a scar. Go into the med-bay and get some bandages and ointment. Top shelf, in the closet."

Mako nodded and went off.

Now in the courtyard, with her back turned to all those people watching her, Korra let some tears fall. All this pain... all this bloodshed...Raava talked of peace, and Korra was supposed to be the symbol of Peace and Balance, but it seemed like that would never be achieved. First Amon, then the war of the Water Tribes, Harmonic Convergence...She thought it was all over. That once she saved the world from internal darkness, that peace would finally come. If not to her, than at least the world. But the world was in more pain than ever now; she could feel it.

And Korra just couldn't shake the feeling that maybe, these people were right. Maybe this was all her fault.

She looked down when she felt a soft touch on her knee. "Why're you cryin'?" Asami's voice was getting a little stronger now, but she still wasn't all there.

Korra went with half of the truth. "I just want everyone to be okay." She wiped her eyes and gave a small smile.

"Don' worry..." Korra gently took Asami fingers, and let out a little shaky laugh.

"That's my job, Asami. I'm Korra, the World Worrier 2.0. Master of all four types of stress inducers."

The Fire Nation girl giggled, too, despite the moan it brought her. Then after a moment, she looked around, confused. "W-where's... Bolin? Is he okay?"

Korra's eyes opened slightly, and she sighed. It was no use explaining it to her when she was still dazed. She continued healing her wound, and only managed to answer once she saw Mako sprinting towered them from the temple. "That what we're all praying for."

After a few more minutes of healing, ( along with a few more curses and accusations from the angry people who were still shackled to the ground) and Mako helping her bandage Asami up, they managed to help her up onto Oogiee. She drank some water, and was looking more alert.

Right before Korra said the trademark 'Yip Yip' that cued the bison to ascend into the air, Korra released all the people, with a failed attempt to kindly ask them to go home. The friends managed to fly away from the Island, while dodging flying blasts of fire and rocks as they went on their way.

Korra couldn't help but bring a hand to her heart when she felt Raava's voice inside her.

_Do not worry, Korra. Change takes time. Just like how a river sometimes runs very slowly, yet always has a destination. They will learn_ _to accept it all eventually._

"I know. We just have to be patient." Korra only wished that they could all understand it _now._

* * *

The darkness pressed against them, concealing their faces like a cloth-the clanking of their armor was the only indication that someone was there. The two metalbender's hearts were tainted with anger, and revenge, desperation clawing inside them, and making them go back on their sworn oath as officers.

But, Shang commented to his comrade, by doing this, they were ultimately helping to keep more people alive. His friend, Kun however, was a bit more weary, having yet to stop repeating that they were still making a deal with the enemy.

"It doesn't matter!" Shang stated, "Our friends are dead! Children are dead, and this deal may be the only way that puts a stop to this."

"Fine, then. _You_ knock down the door."

Shang grunted. He knew quite well that he was risking his job for this ( if not his very life), and that if Beifong got word of what they were instigating, they'd sure be fired and put in jail on the spot. But desperate times, call for desperate measures.

With a wave of his hand, Shang bent the metal door's hinges, and they went inside.

The room was blacker than the night outside, if it were possible, with only a few candles lit on the walls. The place smelt like iron, and death. Kun tried not to cry out when he saw the unmistakable shape and discoloration of a once-intact head resting on the floor in the corner. Even Shang was shaking beside him.

"Gentlemen," the voice rang out, "So nice of you to drop by, and right on time I see. So, you want to make a 'deal' as you so described on your radio message?"

"Y-yes..."Kun replied shakily. His could swear that the skull blinked at him. Of to the side, a huge cage was filled with snake, and they hissed with delight, their bright eyes hungry.

Shang elbowed him, "Yes, we do." he replied, voice sounded far more calm then they both knew he was, "And we have a feeling you will like it."

"Well then," and The Abdicator swung slowly around in his chair, his hands clasped in his lap, "Let's hear it. I always do enjoy new twists to my game."

Kun turned red, "You think this is some kind of-"

The Abdicator glowered, his pupils seeming to grow darker. Kun gulped, and Shang tensed beside him, giving him a look that said '_let me do the talking'._

"Alright." Shang cleared his throat, trying to keep his gaze straight on The Abdicator, and nowhere else in the morbid room, "We will kidnap Mako, as well as the Avatar, and bring them here, to give Bolin more reason to cooperate with you, if..."

"If..?" the twisted man rose a dark eyebrow, the scars on his face seeming to shimmer in the eerie lighting. "Come, gentlemen, do explain your wager."

Shang sighed deeply, "If you swear not to kill anyone else. No one, not even the rest of the children on the List."

The silence that followed was painful to the officers' ears. If the man wanted to, he could chop their heads on in an instant. After what seemed like forever, The Abdicator replied, "Very well."

"You..what?" Shag was speechless.

"You're just going to..." Kun breathed, "Agree? Just like that?"

"Why, what did you expect? That I would feed you to my snakes, let them suck your blood out slowly through your veins while you scream in agony, then chop up your head?"

The two men blanched.

"You're right," he smirked, "I would not. That was Number Ten. You, my fine men, are humans, and deserve my true word. Go on, fetch the traitors and bring them to me. All the more joy at seeing Twelve's face and hearing his begs as they scream."

"U-um...your Highness?" Kun asked. Shang gave him a '_WTF_' look, while said royalty looked quite impressed.

"Yes?"

"What is it you want Number Twelve for anyway? What are you going to do to him?"

"Oh, my friends, it is not what I will do to him, but more so what he will do for _me._ Once he is aware of his true destiny and full abilities, he will have no choice in the matter. He will revel in his glory, and have no complaints what so ever. That is the beauty of it."

The men blinked, "Then," Kun asked, "What do need Mako and the Avatar for? Why did you need to kill all those kids? Why-"

_"Silence."_

Shang and Kun shut up, backing closer to the door. "I have a plan, gentlemen. A plan that will change the world as we know it, and that boy is the key. He is the One." he stated loudly, "And that is all you need to know. _No go!"_

Before they could respond, a knife cut through the air, and stabbed into the wall just above their heads, the handle wobbling. The officers whimpered and ran out as fast as they could.

"Those poor fools," Maven's voice droned from the corner.

"Ah, yes, indeed."

The Abdicator stepped out of his chair and stretched like a cat, licking his lips. "Maven, do fetch me something to eat, all this bloodshed is making me famished."

"Yes, _your Highness,"_ he chirped, and mockingly-bowed like a servant. The Abdicator laughed as he went out the door, liking the sound of that.

"Maven, you are just too good, my friend."

He went over with a spring in his step, and pushed a beefy finger to a button on the wall. Upon the touch, a door opened up, reveling a hidden cell behind it. The Abdicator smiled, smelling the fear.

"Hello, Number Seven," he sung, "Or should I call you 'Ta Gee'? How are you doing?"

Said terrified boy could not speak. Inside the iron-barred cell, he was constricted in a straitjacket, preventing him from making objects move, so much as being able to wiggle his own toes. His mouth was tapped shut, and his hair was doused in black oil.

A mumble was the only coherent sound coming from the shaking boy.

"Ah, don't want to talk I see? How rude. You should at least be grateful that I went out of order."

All he got in reply was a horrified blink. The Abdicator yawned, "I would do away with you now, but I am very exhausted from all my planning. I am afraid your demise will have to wait until my supper and nap. Until then, this should entertain you." he pulled out a lever, and a drop of hot oil fell from a tube on the ceiling and fell onto Ta Gee's head, burning his scalp. A muffled cry was heard, and The Abdicator smiled. Every two seconds, a burning drop seared his victim's head, making him laugh. The boy should be grateful, The Abdicator thought, pretty soon he'll be dead and free of his curse.

The Abdicator smiled to himself as he walked into the kitchen. Everything was going according to plan, and Twelve would be in his mercy soon enough.

* * *

The tingling would _not_ stop. He could feel the outer layers of his brain going _numb/numb/numb_, and then switching to _icy/burning/icy/burning_ just when he thought he was getting use to one or the other. And the worst part was that knew it wasn't a vision, that it was _him,_ but he didn't know what the fuck was going on.

Bolin braced his hands against the wall, his jaw clenching as the numbing came back in full force with disintegrating his brain tissues to mush. He bit back a moan, black dots popping in his eyesight as he tried to regain balance. This wasn't at all what it felt like during a vision, or the after effects of it. It was like his insides were going supernova, getting ready to explode. He had actually, in some miraculous way, managed to fall asleep on the one night that he had tried his damnedest to stay awake. Either his body was still remembering how cold concrete could mold itself into your shape after years of escaping the streets, or the world was shitty him once again. Because he had tried to stay awake, he had searched everywhere last night for the monster, even yelling his name into the darkness. Exhaustion had took him apparently; but not long enough, because he got woken up by his skull cracking open, then burning from the inside out.

A wave of pain nearly sent him to his knees and he let out a string of curses that he would be ashamed of in any other circumstances.

"Damn it, fuck, fuck, _fuck..."_

With a wild punch of his fist, he sent a boulder flying into the wall, pebbles and dust flying around him. He breathing was ragged, and he forced his shaking legs to sit down against the wall. He brought what little feeling he had left of his head into his hands, and _thought._

He couldn't just sit here in this alley another day, or search the city for him anymore. The monster obviously wasn't coming to him, however easier that would make things. He had called out to Nyla, and Kuzon for what seemed like hours last night; to any of them whose names he couldn't help but remember. It became clear that he was own his own for this one. And honestly, all he wanted to do was sleep for the rest of his sucking life, and maybe never wake up while he was at it. A nice dirt nap would be an irony that his twisted mind couldn't help but smile at. But he had to do this. Bolin had to find him and set things right. And that's when it came to him; maybe he _could_ try and sense him like Mako had suggested! Maybe...maybe he could use these damn powers to his advantage for once, and catch him by surprise. Like he said to himself, he was playing by his own rules now.

If he could do this like Mako had said- _Mako..._

No. He shook his head, he couldn't think that way anymore. He had said he last farewell to his brother in the note, and he accepted it his fate. This was his fate, and he couldn't afford to have second guesses.

He breathed in deeply through his nose, and crossed his legs like how Korra did when she was meditating. He frowned as disappointment dawned on him; he didn't have any object from The Abdicator, or any of the gho-_kids-_ to use as a sensor...How the hell was he supposed to do this?

He sat there for a few minutes in a funk, massaging his temples with hopes that he still had some working brain cells left. Slowly, he rested his hands in his lap, and tried to block out all the static and tingling in his mind. Korra had said something about the world Changing, and that the people were, too, a few weeks back as they all sat at the Air Temple, celebrating their victory at being very much alive in a non-internally dark world. Something in the way Korra had looked at that moment made her seem wiser, and the words that came from her where not just of a girl, but an Avatar finally finder her place. She had said something about...Bolin shut his eyes tight in thought, trying to remember...something about accepting the change not only with how the world was now, _but within ourselves._ That we had to accept _who we were becoming,_ and only then would we find peace.

At that time, Bolin didn't think much of Korra's words, only that all his friends were safe and happy for the most part, and the fact that, well- _Spirits were roaming the_ _world_. But now that he really considered it, whether Korra knew it herself at the time or not, maybe a part of her was speaking specially to Bolin, trying to make him understand.

The realization hit him as he closed his eyes: these were _his_ creepy powers. He was going to be this way for the rest of however-long-he-was-going-to-live._ His_ creepy powers, and _he_ would take control.

"I accept who I am becoming." the words left his mouth crisp and clear, and for a moment, he felt the air shift around him. The tingling in his head transformed from something that was an ach, to a feeling of intuitiveness that made the rest of the world drop away. He thought of how The Abdicator had looked all the times he had seen him, and formed a clear image in his mind. He focused on him, his form seeming to come to life in his mind's-eye; his hulking shoulders, and dark skin. Bolin could now make out the color of his eyes for the first time-_red_- the pupils in black slits like a cat-owls. He saw the deep, purple scars that ran along the skin of his face. How the shape was like a half a circle on his left cheek, and cut across his nose in an arc, which dipped down the side of mouth were it formed a dot. _The_ _Judged_, his own voice spoke in his mind, _your wicked ways shall soon come to an end. _Bolin tensed, and almost lost the picture, startled by his own voice speaking those foreign words. But they felt..._right_ somehow. He let the picture swim in his mind, his temple was sweating in concentration. He was trying to keeping his breathing steady _in/out/in/out_ and all of a sudden-he_ felt it_.

It was supernova to the max; every nerve ending in him was like live wire, electric. His eyes snapped open, blazing a green brighter than ever before. His whole body became illuminated at once, lighting up the alleyway as energy coursed through him. With a jolt, a vision took hold of his soul, and it played out right in front of him so clear that he felt like he could almost touch what he was experiencing. It was all he could do to keep reminding himself that it _wasn't him_, it was The Abdicator- not him.

_He was in an underground chamber, sitting in a huge chair that was made of snake-skin. He had a glass cup in his right hand, swimming with a clear liquid that tasted bitter, yet sweet, and when he drank it, it filled him with energy. He watched in evil pleasure as his bony hands filled out, the wrinkles fading away to become strong, long, bones. He clenched his fists with pride, and thanked Maven for adding just the right amount of booze for taste. He spun and faced the mirror, reveling in his improved physique, and testing his muscles. _

_"Ah," he said as he faced the mirror, and he heard his own physical mouth open and speak the words from where was sitting in the alleyway, "if I am going to live forever, at least I get a body that is just as appealing, don't you think so, Maven?"_

_Maven nodded, and came over, putting his hands around his waist. "Yes, your Highness," he purred, and their lips joined in a tangle of tongue and a sting of salt. They broke for air, with a moan, and Maven let his fingers trail along his collarbone before he went into the other room. He walked back into the main room, and pushed a button on the wall. _

_"Time to see how my little Seven is doing." The wall opened up to a cell, in the middle of the floor, lay a boy in a straightjacket. He smelt like gas and oil, and the top of his scalp was burnt so bad that the skin was gone. Dead blue eyes stared back at him. "Oh, well, well, I see you've over stayed your welcome, my little Seven." _

_He whistled, and barking came in a horrid, hungry roar. "Boyysss...!" he called, and the dogs came running, feasting on their snack, tearing the flesh apart in seconds. He laughed and told them to at least try not to be too messy._

_Then, slowly, he walked to a full length mirror on the other side of the room. He combed back his hair, and his lips pulled back in an evil grin._

_"My, my, Bolin," he made a 'tsk, tsk ' noise as he looked at his own reflection shining back at him with glowing green eyes, and light. His own mouth was still saying all these words from the alleyway, as The Abdicator spoke them in perfect sync, "I told you to wait your turn, my boy, but now that you know where I am, I guess I'll just have to add some fun to mix, hmm? You are going to help me, whether you like it or not, so no sense getting so prideful. How is your head doing by the way, I see you haven't popped a blood vessel yet." he taped the mirror with his finger, his long nail grinding against the glass, "You see, we are a connected, you an I-not just at this moment, but in a much more deeper level. It is our destiny, our glory. If you want to know who you really are, the true strength of your abilities, well, then, come and find out," He winked, "It's. _Your_. Turn."_

_And with that, he tapped he finger on the glass once more, creating a cobweb of cracks, until the whole thing shattered at once. He saw his reflection completely dim of light ,and fall, until all that was left was the darkness._

He came out of it by having his eyes roll back and feeling him fall limp on his side. He didn't scream this time- no, he wouldn't allow himself to scream anymore, despite how painful it was both mentally and physically. His body was, however, covered in a layer of cold sweat that made his clothes stick to his clammy skin. Nausea bubbled up, and he swallowed back down bile. Well, that was just a _fucking_-tastic experience. His lips still tasted of salt where that-that _creep_ had kissed him, and he was pretty sure his head was now hurting from the booze he had drunk in that youth-cocktail-thing..._ughhhhhhh._

The bastard knew it, too. He fucking _knew_ that they were connected, or-or joined, or whatever the hell it was that was happening, and used it to _his_ advantage! So much for inner acceptance and controlling his powers. He put his head in his hands and cursed. He fucking needed a cigarette. A good one, with lots of taste that blocked everything out and the smoke made them all leave him alone. Yep. Uh huh.

_No._ That was not going to happen. He was not going to fall back to-

He gasped in pain as searing hot blades cut into his palms. He looked down in horror to see the red marks of-of something- some _symbols_ etching themselves into the flesh of each of his palms. The red light was like a fire burning, and the ruins kept drawing into him with dips and curves and arcs. Finally, they stopped forming, and blazed bright. They dimmed down, and Bolin just stared at them with glazed eyes. He rubbed his finger against one, to see what would happen. Nothing. The markings stained on to his pale skin like permanent tattoos. Then, all of sudden, it came to him:

"_Master,"_ he uttered their meanings as if he knew them by heart. He rubbed his right palm, and then the left, "_The Key."_

He blinked, and clutched his hands. Well, what the hell else was going to happen to him? Was he going to transform into some kind of freaking Spirit?! He honestly wouldn't be surprised.

He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall. He took deep breaths through his nose and tried to find some strength.

After a few minutes, he slowly opened his eyes.

"I accept who I am becoming."

He began walking to his fate.

* * *

After Korra and Mako and Asami had landed Oogiee in Ta Gee's neighborhood, they left a still- weary Asami on the bison (who argued that she was _fine,_ and should be able to come! _Don't you two leave me here!_ ) and went to the address.

Unfortunately, they had opened the door to teary-eyed parents who had frantically exclaimed that their son had been missing since the day prior, and the mother had a 'mother's instinct' that her _baby boy is gone, I just know it!_

Mako and Korra gave each other a look, and Mako had displayed his badge, asking if they could investigate Ta Gee's room for any clues. To Mako's surprise, they had the opposite view that Kuzon's parents had, and tearfully led them both to the boy's messy room on the top of the stairs.

"This place is messier than Ikki's room," Korra muttered, "He definitely can move stuff with his mind." She realized after, that she was speaking of the boy in present tense, but the mother and father made no comment.

"He had some trouble," the father, Mr. Hukka stated, "with controlling it at first."

"Things used to fly all over the place," Mrs. Hukka laughed wearily, crumpling a tissue in her hand, "But he practiced. Our boy was determined to hone his powers after a chair flew out the window. He got good at it, too, slowly, but surely."

Mako and Korra just looked at each other. What could they say? Mako was horrible with this kind of thing, and the encounter with Kuzon's family still stung his heart.

To Mako's surprise, Korra put a gentle hand on both their shoulder's, and smiled gently, "Your son will not be in vain. We will put a stop to this. Please, don't worry."

Mako wanted to ask her if she could give him any advice, because his poor brother was probably being tortured at this very moment, and he was in some dead kid's bedroom. Mako felt tears pricking his eyes, Bolin's note crinkled in his pocket. Would this piece of paper be the last memento he ever had of his little brother?

No, he was going to find him. _He had to._

"...Right, Mako?" Korra elbowed him.

He blinked and looked up, snapping out of his thoughts. He cleared his throat, "I-I'm sorry?"

Korra gave him a sympathetic look. "So, are their any items in here that you would not like us to touch?"

"Oh, no, no," Mrs. Hukka waved her hand, "Do what you must. If you need anything else, please don't hesitate to ask."

Korra bowed in respect, and closed the door behind her. "C'mon, Detective. Time to do your thing."

Mako swallowed. "Right."

After a few minutes of searching, both of them didn't want to say the sad truth; they had found nothing useful in the room that led them any closer to finding The Abdicator, and the fact that they most likely _would_ if Bolin was here. But if Bolin was here, they most likely wouldn't be here in the first place.

"Well," Mako kicked the floor with his foot, "_Damn_. Some Detective I am."

"Come on, help me move the bed. Maybe there's something-"

They both snapped their heads up as the window crashed in, shards of glass going everywhere. Two men in metalbending outfits were there, both their noses and mouths covered by masks.

"Sorry about this, Mako," one of them said.

Mako squinted, he knew those eyes, he knew that voice. "O-officer _Kun_? Officer Shang?"

"We gotta do what gotta do kid, nothing personal." Then Shang pushed a button, and white gas flooded the room.

Mako and Korra started coughing instantly, breathing in the fumes. Mako fell first, and Korra tried to dissipate the gas with her airbending, moving the air around the room. But it was no use, she had already smelt it, breathed it in. Shang pushed another button and more came out, putrid and burning in her throat.

"No..." she groaned and weakly fell to the floor. From her weakening sight, she saw Shang toss Mako's unconscious form over his shoulder like a rag doll. She gagged and gasped again, her eye lids getting too heavy. She felt someone pick her up, and swing her on their back.

_"N-No..."_

Then she passed out.


	6. Dark Horse

**Does this darkness have a name?**

This **cruelty**, this **hatred. **How did it find us?

Did it steal into our lives or did we seek it out and ** embrace** it?

What **_happened_** to us?

That we now send our children out into the world like we send young men to war,

hoping for their safe return. But knowing that some will be lost along the way...

When did we **lose** our way?

Consumed by the **shadows**, swallowed whole by the **darkness**.

.

Does this darkness have a name?

.

.

Is it your name?

-One Tree Hill-

* * *

_"What do you miss most about being alive?" _

_It was nighttime, and he was getting used to not being able to fall asleep, and Nyla seemed be to getting used to talking to him after four days of being invisible._

_It took her a moment. Bolin thought she'd be holding her breath, if she could still breathe. "I miss...I miss Mommy and Daddy. And their cooking, and bedtime stories. I even miss my baby brother crying, and how Daddy would grumble because he was tired. But, then, sometimes Daddy would make hot cocoa in the middle of the night, and we'd just talk, and Baby Gi Gi would suck on my fingers. I even miss going to school. And spinach." she said, "But you wanna know what I miss the _most-most_?" she asked, and Bolin swore she looked so much older than the age of eight that she was eternally stuck in._

_"What?"_

_"Love. And feeling. People say that no one can hurt you when you die, but they don't get it. There's no point if you can't feel anything."_

_Bolin looked at her, and adjusted the pillows. At this point, he'd do anything to be able to feel nothing._

_"Do you miss it?" she asked in her sing-song voice. No matter how much wind or energy her form created, her green bow always stayed in place. The only thing besides her transparent form that would give way to her lack of life, was the blood staining the right side of her face, that dripped down from the crack in her head._

_Bolin tried to look at the left side._

_"Miss what?"_

_"How you were before. Before the Change?"_

_Bolin closed his eyes tight and thought. He had no idea how he could explain this to her, or what the right answer would be. How do you know to regret something that you don't know is a blessing or a curse?_

_"I wish..." he said quietly, "...I wish someone would tell me why my eyes and feelings suddenly decided to work differently than everyone else's. I wish that it would stop."_

_"...Maybe you need glasses." Nyla suddenly appeared on the other side of the room. Bolin shivered. He could never get used to the chilly energy the ghosts brought with them wherever they went._

_"Heh...yeah, maybe."_

_"But then," she looked at him with big, green, eyes,"if you couldn't see me...we wouldn't be friends. I wouldn't have anyone to talk to, or play with. Mommy can't see me, and I always make Gi Gi cry when I try to talk to him."_

_Bolin sighed and stuffed his pillow under his stomach. "Nyla, you can't stay here anymore. This isn't your place anymore. You have to move on, to the Spirit World."_

_If ghosts could look said, she had mastered the art._

_"Nyla..." he shook his head. He could feel her pain, her sadness. How lonely she was. Flashes of her life flew across his vision; a family dinner; she playing with the baby; she on her first day of school. It was wrapping inside his heart, getting in his head. He pushed the feelings away, and made his voice strong. "We can't talk anymore, Nyla. We...we can't be friends anymore."_

_"You don't like me anymore?" she asked. The room got colder, icicles ran up the windows. Bolin forced himself not to shiver._

_"No, no, it's not that. I told you; you don't belong here. The Spirit World is your home now."_

_She just looked down at her slippered-clad feet. Bolin thought she'd shimmer away._

_"Daddy used to say people are afraid of what they don't understand, or can't explain. He told me that once, when people were being mean to me about what I could do."_

_He wrapped his arms around himself. "Yeah, I've been hearing that a lot lately. It got me thinking a bit."_

_"About what?" she pointed her toe, looking at her shoes. Point. Flex. Point. Flex._

_"That maybe...it is still okay to be afraid of something that you're familiar with?"_

_She gives him a look._

_"Me."_

_"...I don't know." she shrugged, "But then again, what do I know? I can't feel anything, and I'm only eight."_

_"Yeah, well, sometimes feelings aren't all they're cracked up to be, Nyla."_

_"But you don't scare me," she cocked her head to the side, "You're too nice. Do you scare yourself?" _

_"...Sometimes."_

_"Why?"_

_"It's...hard to explain."_

_She looked up at him, her green bow shimmering in the invisible wind. "Because you don't understand?"_

_"Yeah, Ny, because I don't understand."_

_The room got quiet. After a minute, she spoke up in a tiny voice that for once sounded her age. "Bolin?"_

_"Hmmm?"_

_"Will you always be my friend? No matter what? Even if something bad happens?"_

_He blinked and leaned up on his elbows, "I..." He thought about telling her that she had to leave again, to move on, but he couldn't bring himself to try to force her away. Not when he was the only one who could see her. He swallowed down a lump in his throat."Nyla, of course I will. Why do you-"_

_"-because something bad's gonna happen. On this side, you see and hear things. Bad things. They say someone's gonna make something really bad happen soon."_

_He bolted up right in bed, and looked at her. "Who Nyla? Who do they say?"_

_She started fading away, the room started getting warmer again._

_"Nyla!" he called, "Wait! Who do they say?"_

_With one last breath, she spoke the words in an eerie whisper that ran up his spine._

"They say you."

* * *

What wakes him up is the persistent drops of water splashing onto his face from above, and the muscle cramping in his leg. Mako blinks open his eyes, and groans, wincing as that damn water splatters on him again. He struggles to get up, only to find himself bound; the shackles are heavy metal clasps around his wrists and legs. It takes him a second- too long in his opinion- to remember what the hell happened or where he is. He shakes his head for a moment to clear it, then starts in fear when he sees Korra's unconscious form tied up next to him. The memories play back like the pictures on a mover screen: _Ta Gee's house. Bedroom. Broken_ _glass_. _Toxic gas_. _Choking._ _Passing out_. He tries to call her name, but fails when a round of coughing is all that comes out. His tongue feels like it's been coated with sandpaper, and his throat is burning like the first time he tried to perform the _Dragon's Breath_ when he was fourteen as self defense against two thugs, and _failed_ miserably. He could barely swallow for a week after that, and Bolin had to use their week's worth of money for a healer, who wanted payment in something other than money.

He groans, and tries to roll himself on his side. He tilts his head back, and opens his mouth. The water drips from the ceiling slowly, landing in his mouth with a _plop,_ and he swishes it around for a good few seconds before greedily swallowing.

He tries again. Her name comes out raspy, "K-korra...?"

She doesn't even flinch. He tries to clear his throat, and takes a deep breath while saying her name again. He inches closer to her, little by little, but the end of the chains are tied into the wall, and he can't go any further.

"Korra? Hey, Korra, C'mon!" he nudges her side with his foot, and to his relief, she finally stirs. Her moan and flutter of eyes turns slowly into panic, that transforms into a surge of wind blasting.

"Hey, it's okay! Calm down!"

"Mako...?" she gasps and coughs, "Where are we?"

He sighs and tries to shake the ach from his leg, "With our luck, wherever The Abdicator is. At least Bolin is probably here. Actually, no," he says, "I can't decide if that's a good thing or not."

Korra shifts and tries to sit down in a more comfortable position. She takes a big intake of breath, and wills the heat up from her stomach and out through her mouth. Flames lick her lips and meet the metal clasps, but do not melt them in any way. They don't even blacken at all. "Gah! What kind of metal is this? I can't even melt it!"

"I'm guessing he made it that way on purpose," Mako says glumly, "since this was probably part of his plan all along."

"Thank you, Captain Melancholy. Becoming hopeless is really going to help us get out of here and find Bolin."

Mako grunts, and tries in vain to melt his clasps. "_Damn it. _We gotta get outta-"

A door swing opens, and they freeze. The two officers come out of the shadows and stand beside the bars. "Shang, Kun!" Mako snarls, "You traitors!"

"Hey, kid, don't look at us like that," Shang drawls, "We had no choice. At least we're saving lives, which is something that you freak-lovers failed at. Made a deal with him; the kids' lives, for yours."

"You really think he's gonna follow through with that!? Agni, he's a serial killer! He doesn't make 'promises', just compromises! You're not saving anybody!"

"Ohhh...you are _right_ about that, detective," a voice drones from the darkness. And with that, a slice cuts through the air, and the in the next second, the two officers were down, blood bubbling up from the knifes sticking out of their chests. They cried and gaged, until they fell silent.

Mako and Korra watch in barely contained horror, as the silhouette pulls the knives out of the bodies as if it were a stick out of the ground, and wipes the blade with the corner of his cloak. As he gets closer, the darkness fades away to revel beady, bloodshot eyes like a cat-owls, scars crisscrossed on his dark face, and the overwhelming stench of alcohol.

"Hello, Mako, Avatar," he nods to each in turn, "I'm guessing you've heard of me."

Mako and Korra couldn't do anything but try to remember how to breathe. The smell of blood was making their ears ring.

"Oh, don't look so afraid. I'm not going to kill you. _Yet."_

And with that, he released the vat of hot oil.

_For being two firebenders_, The Abdicator thought to himself, watching from the shadows in a bubbling craze,_ they sure do scream loudly when burnt._

* * *

"I'm an idiot."

Bolin knew where the chamber was -or, to be more precise, what it _looked_ like- the question was how to get there. He could bend earth, but he couldn't see through it, and in his state of mind, the paranoia was making it harder for him to try to sense if there was anything, well, _chamber-ish_ down there under the layers of earth.

Or where in the hell he should start digging underground.

Bolin sighed, and realized that in like pretty much every other situation in his life, he hadn't thought things through. In his defense, it was kinda hard to think at all when your brain's been recovering from being slit in half, and dying ten times over sure doesn't help anyone's emotional state. The past month since Harmonic Convergence had been the worst in his life. It had been:

Sleeping and getting up, and not knowing which one was worse, or which one he was in, because he had opened and closed his eyes so much and seen so many things that people would say were daydreams or nightmares if he told them, but he knew they were real, and being afraid to touch, because _no, no, no those feelings aren't you, they are_ them_ from that coat/chair/table/ hand you just shook, no, you didn't drown, that was the other guy,_ and talking to invisible friends, and fighting off damn Spirits, and one time an official-looking guy had come up to Mako and handed him a card and told him to _'call that number if you want to talk about your_ _brother's condition'_ and thinking he was crazy and maybehewascrazy, and trying to blow away all the noise and voices that curl up in his head, but Mako had said-

_"I'm really proud of you, Bo. I know this can't be easy for_ _you do deal with, but you're saving a lot of people. Mom and_ _Dad would be proud, too."_

And that was what was keeping/him/going bEcAuSE-

-what was really hard, was trying to remember what/was/what and which/was/which because sometimes he'd be in mid-vision and not/know/it and everything would be dandy, and he'd be talking to Korra, but then her eyes would change, or she'd say something odd, or he'd look down and, like, half his hand would be missing, and he'd open his eyes, and _damn it, Korra hadn't even been there to begin with._ Or the time Mako had gotten a plumber to fix the bathtub (or/so/he/thought/) because apparently Mako couldn't /see/ the plumber, and the angry energy had caused the toilet to overflow anyway. And-

_Focus,_ he scolded himself. _This is real_. _You saw where the chamber was. You sensed it before, now just...stay calm, and try to get that same feeling again. _

He closed his eyes and _waited_, and _listened._ To any other earthbender, it would probably looked like he was trying to do seismic sense, but this was not the case. Bolin shoved all the panic and static out of his mind, pushed the emotions and energies of all the ghosts away, trying to form some silence. He waited, for a minute, then _pushed_ with his thoughts . The tingling returned, and with his closed eyes, he saw almost a kind of path made of energy, guiding him to where he needed to go.

_Two blocks over, and 200 kl down. _He started walking to where he _felt_ it. Around the corner, and down the two blocks. A short distance, but to him felt like an eternity. It was dark out, and this part of the city was too downtrodden to have street lamps, but to him, but it was like shining beacon, bubbling with energy. The closer he got to the spot, the more he felt the tingle pull him, and the brighter his eyes glowed.

When he reached the spot, he hands singed. The ruins on his hands began to glow, bright red through the darkness. He placed his palms flat on the pavement, and the ruins began to form on the ground around him. They etched themselves into the ground like chalk, and when they were finished, Bolin was left sitting in the very middle of them, the night illuminated by the light.

He closed his eyes, and jumped into the whole that formed around him. The tunnel began shifting around him, wherever he placed his hands. He kept walking and walking deeper. He knew the destination. He had a plan now. And he would put a stop to this.

It was his turn.

* * *

Asami had been waiting for about an hour on the bison, and quite frankly, was getting a quite worried, if not a little pissed off. The sun was starting to set, Mako and Korra should have been back by now. She figured either, A) They had ditched her, (not likely) B) They were having tea and a dandy ol' time with the parents,( far more unlikely, although stranger things had happened) or C) Something terrible had happened. (_horribly likely_)

And judging by the loud shattering sound she had heard moments before, followed by some yells in the form of Korra's voice, she was going to go with the latter.

She wanted to jump off the bison and go to where she had heard the disturbance at the back of the house, but her shoulder still hurt, and she knew she couldn't make it down the creature, or really walk much without help.

_Damn fire always has to ruin everything,_ she thought glumly. It was rendering her useless, and if there was one thing Asami Sato hated, it was being unable to help with a situation. She groaned, and crawled her painful way to the front of Oggiee's back, ready to grab the saddle and make a hasty flight back to the Temple, to call out a search. Before, she took could take off, however, she saw a man and woman whom she assumed to be the parents, come rushing out to her. They were frantic and teary-eyed, explaining in a panic about how _the house has been broken into! The windows in my son's room have been shattered! Detective Mako and the Avatar have been taken!_

So Asami had been right. _Great._

"Please, calm down!" she told them, "I'm going back the Air Temple now to get help! Everything will be alright." _I hope._

As Asami took off she could only feel the overwhelming sense of dread bubble up in her stomach, and take form in her tears. Things were just getting worse, and her world would end if she found any of her friends' deaths highlighting the front page of the newspaper in the morning.

"Damn it, you guys all better be okay, or I'll kill you each myself!"

The wind whizzing through her hair, the setting sun casting ribbons of light across the sky in pinks, and yellows, and oranges, would have been beautiful sight if not for the situation at hand, and she would have wanted it to last. But the fear in her urged Ooggiee on faster, needing as much time as possible.

...

It's minutes later, and she's not sure what makes her look left when she does, or how it catches her eye, but she commands Oogiee down with the speed that would make any Airbender proud.

In hindsight, Asami is grateful for the fast approaching night, because she isn't sure she would have been able to see it at all in the daylight.

They are shining bright like a beacon, etched onto a patch of weed-covered pavement behind an abandoned ware-house looking building. The symbols twinkling red, and slopping high and low with edges and curves, mystify her as she lands. She is also grateful-internally so- that she brought along her father's old Mythology book of symbols that had The Abdicator's story in it. She'll never admit it, but when she was little, ( and still unaware as to the true meaning of the stories) she used to pretend that if she could decipher the symbols and their meanings, she could make her own magic spells to bring her mother back to life. She'd spend hours in her father's study room when he was at work, she sitting on a pillow-layered chair, hunched over the mahogany desk, with a pencil between her teeth. _A little of this, a little of that, into the bowl. Splat, splat, splat!_

But maybe her pretend wasn't all childhood innocence and hope. Maybe it could be real. If she could figure out what these meant...

With an intake of breath, she braced herself for the crawl down. She went down Oogie's back with the grace of a chicken-bull in a balloon shop, and not-so-delicately landed on her hands and knees, her arm burning like a live wire. With her one good arm, she slung her bag off her shoulder, and took the book out. She took another long look at the ruins, walking slowly around them, trying to see them from all angles. She noticed she could only get so close before the light stung her eyes, and the energy felt hot, like fire. They weren't burning, though. They looked _beautiful_, in an eerie soft of way.

Somehow, in some way, she knew it was Bolin who had made these.

With a worried sigh, her shaking fingers flipped open the first page, and her eyes scanned each and every one before she comes across what she thought what she was looking for.

She walked around them once more, and checked the pages. Yes, these were the symbols in the book. But something like slime got stuck in her throat as she read the words under them.

The right one was called _'Master'_ all with high corners and dark edges. The one next to it, with highlighted sweeps and curling dots, was labeled _'The Key.'_

But how did this all relate; Asami struggled to fit the pieces together. If Bolin had made these, if these _belonged_ to Bolin- which she knew they did-what did they mean? Did Bolin have to find this 'key'? Who was this 'Master'?

She squinted in the dying light, and brought the book as close as she could without feeling the sting.

She began reading the inscriptions underneath:

_It is said that whoever holds the key, holds ultimate power of the dark kind... The Master holds the key within, but cannot unlock it until the time is right, until everything is set in place. Like the thousands they shall come, with lights inside their eyes. They will follow him everywhere. He will rule them all, and they shall call him Master. _

She swallowed, and tried to stop shaking. She was beginning to sweat, the paper was crinkling. She turned the page, only to gasp in shock. The rest of the section was ripped out, the pages torn jagged from the lining with a forceful hand. She kept flipping back and forth, but there nothing left on the symbols, and the new chapter went onto something about old forms of bending...

"Okay." she said to herself, trying to calm down. The worst-case scenarios went running through her head. Bolin made these. The blood written on the walls. The whole story. Why he wanted Bolin.

It became horribly clear to her that Bolin was this 'Master'. But of what? _What?_

"What do you mean?", she yelled to the glowing symbols, her voice high, "What do you want with him?"

Then their light faded away at once, leaving her in darkness.

* * *

Their screams couldn't be more enjoyable to him, even if he had a fluffy chair to watch them in from (though it was sounding like a good idea) and Maven handing him his favorite wine by the glass ( also sounding rather indulgent). The firebender was shaking, his skin shiny with sweat, mixing into the blood that was blooming up from the whip lashes that Maven gave every few seconds or so. He waited just long enough for the yell to die down, and his breath to even out again, and then _Snap!_ _Wack!_ _Nooo!_

It was a melody of pure glory.

And the Avatar-_oh, the strong, brave, resilient Avatar-_ was now hanging ten feet off the ground, upside down by metal clasps, which were pulling her limps farther and farther apart with each scream she produced.

The cycle was lushes. A little whip to the boy's-_everywhere- _followed by his blood-splattering cries, and the Avatar was reduced to a helpless little girl, begging and pleading to_ please, stop! Kill me! Kill me, leave him alone! Please!_ all the while her limbs were stretched like dough.

Ooohhh...Twelve was going to be _too easy_ to manipulate.

* * *

All the blood in Korra's body was rushing to her head, making an aching thud pound at her temple, and her limbs were _burning/fire/too much/burning_. But she told herself to stop thinking about it, and figure a way out of this hell whole.

She couldn't take Mako's screams anymore.

Her voice was dying off again from all the begging, but she found it useless anyway. She was just giving the monster what he wanted. And she guessed Mako was figuring that out, too, and how his cries only caused her own pain and torture, because his cries were slowly being replaced by the hard clench of his jaw, and forceful grunts. His hands were grasping the wall, and slowly, slowly he kept trying to turn his body so his mouth could be in rage of those monkeyfeatherd bastards.

Mako was a dragon, and beasts cannot be tamed.

The whip cracked again, and his back arched in an inhuman way, the skin painted red. But Mako just grunted, and took in deep breaths through his flared nostrils. She bit her tongue to keep it quiet, and tried with all her might to activate the Avatar State.

Surely her life was in fucking danger now, huh? Surely Raava wouldn't stand for this when she wouldn't let this go on anymore! Then why did her power fail her? The anger was bubbling just beneath the surface, heating up her whole body-but she couldn't produce that glow in her eyes. Was it because she really was the New Avatar, and had no past lives' energy to call upon? Had Raava been hurt?

Was she just this helpless?

"Arghhh!"

_"Mako!"_

The whip had curled around his arm, pulling him down to fall on his side, and he-he _didn't get up_. He wasn't moving-

"How do you feel now, Avatar? Still invincible?"

But no, no, she couldn't answer, the tears running down her face were her only reply, as was the whining sound in the back of her throat.

_Mako...Mako, please. Get up..._

"Your tears will do nothing, little girl. You couldn't even fight me if you tried. Besides, this isn't your battle. It never was." The Abdicator smirked," It's always been about the boy."

Just then, something stirred from the ground, a shaking form, wobbling up on his hands and knees. A raspy voice came from his throat, but it was the strongest words that she had ever heard him say.

"_M-my brother-"_ he panted, and spit out a wad of red saliva,"_will never follow you. _You've underestimated him."

"Ahhhh..." the 'tsk' tsk' cluck of his tongue was like nails on a board, "Clearly, you need to re-read that letter he left you, boy. He seemed awfully worn down to me. Besides, I know you're not stupid enough to not know why I've captured you both. Take a good guess; I'll give you three choices."

_"One-"_

_-_Maven flicked the whip-

-"He loves you and would do anything for you."

_"Two-"_

_-_The chains pulled Korra into four different directions simultaneously-

-"He will be putty in my hands at the sight of you two here."

_"Or three-"_

_-_The vat of hot oil came down-

-"He will do it by his own choice."

He released Korra from her hold, and she fell, fell to the ground with a thud. Mako's dull eyes were accomplishment in off itself.

"Personally, I'd go will _'all of the above'_ if I were you." and with that, he spun on his heels, and walked out the door.

* * *

The tunnel just kept going deeper and deeper.

Bolin had no idea how the chamber had ever managed to _get_ down here, let alone how in the hell he would have been able to see his hands in front of his face, if his hands weren't, well...how could he put this? Glowing with the creepy red energy of just-as-creepy-symbols-that-somehow-he knew-the-meaning to-yet-had-never- seen-before-this- night?

Yeah. That sounded about right.

The dryness down here was making his tongue thick and dry, and about just as many Spirits that found home in the sky, scurried about down here, as well. And while his 'glowy-ness' seemed to scare most of them away, others weren't very friendly looking, and had taken it upon themselves to follow him.

_That's cool, no big deal. Just keep walking and maybe the four-eyed, slimy, razer-toothed monster-thing won't eat you. You got this, Bolin. _ The Spirits in the vines in Republic City had seemed to call out to him, and make him feel wanted, but as he kept getting deeper into the tunnels, the energy felt along the lines of something that Bolin couldn't think of to call anything other than one of dread. He closed his eyes so he wouldn't have to see the Spirits, and walked along to the invisible pull. Whatever fate awaited him, there was no going back. He had deserved this- had _caused_ this. And whether karma had allowed him to not to die all those years in the streets, only to meet a horrible end now, well, at least he knew he wouldn't be missed much. With all the people on the streets who clearly made it known that he was a freak, and hated him for all the recent events happening-each killing that was just to get to him, every glare at each vision that he tried to warn the people about but couldn't until it was too late- his death would probably be celebrated.

He was drowning in these thoughts just as something made him open his eyes. A boy, a few years younger than him, stood inches from his face. He was a ghost, Bolin realized, and the last time he had seen him, he had been unwrapping his decapitated head, all nicely tucked inside tissue paper, and a ribboned-box sent directly to him.

_"Kuzon..." _Bolin's breath froze up like an icicle, "W-what...what are you doing here?"

Bolin brought his hand up to light the space between them, and the glow highlighted all the teeth marks and torn skin which had been the cause of his death. Some muscle was even pulled apart to show the bone underneath, and Bolin moaned, just as everything went fuzzy.

_The dogs were eating his flesh still half-alive, the boy didn't even make a sound as the bones snapped under their killer jaws. Their muzzles were stained with blood, as they clamped down on the gooy-_

"_Ugh..."_ Bolin pushed the images away, holding his head until the feeling passed, "I know, Kuzon. I know...I'm sorry..."

The ghost remained silent for a few moments, and Bolin remembered Mako telling him that Kuzon had never been able to talk when he was alive. Even with his short time with seeing ghosts, Bolin had learned that some wanted his help, some wanted to hurt him and cause pain to anyone they could, and while others just floated along, silent, watching the world keep on going around them. They always looked the saddest, Bolin thought, and the most broken.

Bolin pulled the light away, and tried to keep walking. If Kuzon wanted to talk to him via his mind, well, then, he would eventually. His ember eyes just looked like empty pools of orange; like a dried out fruit, or a burnt out star. Nyla 's green ones always looked lively, if not lonely at times, but at least she didn't have this haunted look this the poor, mute ghost did.

"Coming along for the ride?" Bolin asked. The ghost just stared. Bolin nodded. "Well, okay then."

Bolin started walking again, the earth bending around his glowing hands. After a few moments, he sighed, "Look, Kuzon. I tried to explain this to Nyla a few weeks back, but she didn't really understand. You...you can't stay here anymore, " he sighed wearily, "You've been dead for two weeks now. You have to find your place in the Spirit World."

Bolin dared to look back, only to see Kuzon's form ripple and shimmer.

"You need to find peace," he tried again, "I'm just trying to-

_There is no peace. Not on this side. Only darkness._

Bolin stopped abruptly, hearing Kuzon's voice in his head. "I know. I know it's hard, but-"

_You need to go back. You will only cause more harm with what you are doing._ Kuzon suddenly appeared in front of him.

He shook his head, eyes hard. "No, Kuzon, I can't. Not when I'm come this far. Not when my family is in danger. I have to keep going."

Bolin walked right through Kuzon, and almost collapsed.

_STOP! NO MORE!_

The wail shook the air, sending wind and light surging around them. Bolin clutched head and tried to shut his eyes against the force.

_You must go no further,_ the voice echoed. _It will only bring more pain_.

"I have no choice, Kuzon. I'm sorry." And with that, Bolin brought his palm right up to the ghost's face, and the symbol started to shimmer. It formed on Kuzon's face with an eerie glow, and Kuzon howled in anger, his form fading.

_Noooo!_

And then he was gone.

After that, Bolin walked faster, more purposeful than ever. It seemed like hours that he kept walking, and his legs felt ready to cave in. But eventually, he arrived.

The door looked like someone had recently ripped it apart, and put it back together. Its metal frame, was wide and tall, build right into the side of the rocks.

"Well..." he took a deep breath, "I guess this is it. I'm sorry, Mako."

With one swift kick with a particularly big rock, the door rammed down. He walked cautiously inside, the dimly lit halls only glowed with a few candles every few feet, and stench was like something had been rotting for a while. The most horrible feeling came over him, voices whispering in his mind _go back! go back!_ but he kept pressing forward. The hallway opened up to the main room he had seen in his vision, everything just as he had seen. His feet crunched along broken bits of glass, and he ran his finger along one of the shards in the mirror.

He saw himself, with hallow, black eyes, and a crooked, sadistic grin.

He quickly pulled his hand away, and forced himself to keep walking.

_"I'm really proud of you, Bo. I know this can't be easy for_ _you do deal with, but you're saving a lot of people. Mom and Dad would be proud, too."_

He went along the hall until he spotted the kitchen. The table was bigger than he remembered, but the cup with that horrible youth-cocktail, was still resting in the exact spot, the rim glossy. It was too quiet, and he figured they were waiting in the shadows for him anyway, so no sense trying to be sneaky about it. He opened another door, and tried to peer through the darkness. If there was any earth available, he'd take pride in having the first hit; of finding the bastard and knocking his head in so hard that its crack would be heard throughout the city. But, the odds were not in his favor. So he went with the next alternative.

"Well, I'm here, bitch. Come out and play." his voice rang out through the empty room.

Suddenly, the lights blasted on, and his eyes screamed in protest as they rushed to adjust themselves.

"I'm waiting, bastard! Come and get me!"

_"Bolin!?"_

He spun, and turned right. His chest was ice, his body numbed and exploded. He had to grasp the wall to keep from collapsing.

_"...M-mako?! Korra...!?"_

Something attacked him and pinned him against the wall in a flash. He opened his eyes, staring right into beady, blot-shot eyes, and twisted flesh, with hot breath against his face.

"_Hello, Number Twelve_," he whispered in his ear, his lips leaving goosebumps on his skin, "I've been waiting a long time for you."


	7. Anthum of the Angles

**First of all, I'd like to give a shout-out to my wonderful friend in fanfiction, Boasamishipper! This chappie would not be what it is, without her wondrous help! So do me a favor, with all your fangirl (and boy) goodness-go give her some love! Go check out some of the abundance of awesome stories she has created! I highly recommend "The Other Side of Me." You will not be disappointed, I assure you!**

**Once again, Boa, you never cease to amaze me! ;)**

.

_"Days go on forever  
But I have not left your side  
We can chase the dark together  
If you go then so will I"_

_-Breaking Benjamin_

* * *

The pads of their feet slammed down on the asphalt so hard, it was a wonder they couldn't Earthbend. At first it was just their breaths that were giving way to any sound, but, like prey, they were locked upon. The yells and lights blared as they tried to dodge between them, airships chasing them through the night sky.

"Mie! Hurry! Give me your hand!" Chan yelled, the spotlight temporarily blinding him. Mie gasped, and nearly tripped over the band around her leg, that had been made to nullify her abilities. She could not turn invisible, or produce her air-shattering scream with it on, but if she could just get to Chan...

The loud voices from above boomed orders to _stop resisting, or we will use excessive force!_, to stay put and obey their commands. But the two friends knew that if they stopped running, they'd be met with a fate worse then death. These men in black suits promised fates of lab-rats. Where white walls caged them in and wires running into their veins showed everything about them that would be analyzed and tested. Whoever these guys were, their message was clear. Chan and Mie had barely escaped the confinements of their "freak catching truck" and hour ago, and once that band was clamped around Mie's leg, the drugs had started doing their magic.

Chan had only managed get them both out by the sheer luck that the black-suited creep had thought he was unconscious, and hadn't thought to dull his powers with the friggin shocker, and like air, he had phased them through and back into the street. Frankly, Chan didn't know whether to be happy about that, or take the lack of precaution on him, an insult. At least these guys weren't the Abdicator, but bastards come in all shapes in sizes, he knew.

Either way, he wasn't stopping to ask them their names.

Chan dared a look back at her, which slowed him down. Mie was lagging, her ember eyes glazed over with whatever cocktail they had pumping through her.

He yelled her name once more, just as she tripped and splattered, prone on the concrete. He froze in fear, and the spotlight hit him dead on.

_"Mie!" _But it was no use. He could only stand frozen and watch as his childhood friend, the girl he had loved enough to do anything for, be lifted up into an airship by a huge metal crane as if she were nothing more than garbage.

Chan sprinted into the dark of the alleys and found he could form no tears.

What do you have to cry for, when you are truly alone? It was then that Chan solemnly realized, that he was the only one of them left.

* * *

"Hello, Number Twelve," he whispered in his ear, his lips leaving goosebumps on his skin, "I've been waiting a long time for you."

Bolin's body was shoved harder and harder against the wall; the Abdicator's hot, horrible breath that smelled of alcohol and old cigars filling the air around him, making it hard to breathe. His hands, scabbed and scarred, pushed against Bolin's stomach until Bolin was sure that he heard his ribs crack and _painpainpainkillmekillme_ he was pretty sure that this was the end, _but no, it couldn't be, nonononononono!_ Bolin screamed, his voice echoing in the room—

And then the pressure stopped, the Abdicator's hands vanished, and Bolin fell to the ground with a large thud. He took a deep, staggering breath and tried to get up, nearly falling flat on his face. He could still feel the Abdicator's hands on him and shuddered, trying not to vomit. He could still smell the Abdicator's breath, remember how his lips had pressed against his own in the vision. Bolin stood up, and then his eardrums nearly popped out of his ears as a loud, screeching whistle ricocheted around the cell like a bullet in a metal box, growing louder and higher-pitched with every second. The seventeen-year-old earthbender shut his eyes tightly and clamped his hands over his ears firmly, tears streaming down his face as the agonizing sound penetrated his hands. Bolin couldn't take the high-pitched noise anymore, and he screamed and screamed and screamed until his voice was hoarse. But then another sound penetrated the ear-bleeding cry. It was the sound of the Abdicator's horrible, twisted laughter.

"Are you ready, my Twelve?" he asked, "Our plan is almost to be put into place." And with that, the madman took his blade, and made a drop of blood from his finger fall on top of a pile of ashes on a table. Instantly, a wind picked up, and the energy transformed into not eleven, but hundreds-_ no, __thousands_- of human like forms. The room was filled with them, for every one in the prison to see.

From behind, he heard Korra gasp a harsh breath of fear, and Mako say something as he rattled against the chains. Maybe his name, he wasn't sure.

Bolin blanched at the sight of all of them. Their white, wispy silhouettes, all still baring the round cheeks and shiny eyes of youthful innocence. Thousands of ghost-children, stood in front of him, who had lived across the spans of limitless years. And somehow, he knew each and every one of them by name. He knew their thoughts, feelings, their lives.

_'They were kids that I once knew.'_

They were all looking at him, their eyes glowing like white wholes. Lights. '_They had lights inside their eyes.' _And, even though he had never seen any of them before, he knew he had _been_ a few of them. _Oh, you think the Avatar's the only one who gets reincarnated?_ The horrible words ran through his head, as the Abdicator laughed.

_Five._ Five of them had been his past lives. Everything was too much; it was all Bolin could do to keep himself standing up from the weight of all their feelings and emotions. If he looked to the back towered the left, he could remember living the life as that little boy with the two different colored eyes. How instead of being called 'Bolin', he had been 'Kazu'. He/Kazu had had a nice family, and two little sisters. He had liked to go fishing with his dad, and his sisters had always wanted him to play with him, no matter what hour. Up six rows, he is/was/ a 15 year old Fire Nation noble girl, who was the head of her class, but never let it show. Her fire and heart fouled for what she lacked in stature, and she/he had proved everybody wrong.

Their glowing eyes all fixed upon him at once, and Bolin found himself shaking. One word came from their un-moving lips simultaneously:

_"Master."_

Bolin's vision blurred in and out. "_Y-you killed them all."_ he whispered.

The monster clucked his tongue, "That I did. And I'd kill 10,000 if that's what it would take to change the world."

Bolin leaned on the wall for support, wondering how in the hell they were going to get out of this. "Change the world how?"

A manic cackle came from the monster's throat, and Bolin blinked. "You really haven't figured it out yet, have you?" At the earthbender's blank expression, he continued on. "You're the only one who can control them, Bolin. Together, you and I, can use them to take over and bring the Spirits down on their slimy knees. We'll use this army to subdue every Spirit, and make the human race the most powerful over every creature, normal and Spiritual alike."

Bolin stepped back until he hit the wall, but the Abdicator just kept coming closer. "I know you can feel them." he breathed, "Tap into your power, and see what you're truly made of! You'll be the most powerful human in the world, Bolin! _You will rule them all; you are their Master."_

"N-no..." Bolin breathed. He clasped his hands over his ears, and shut his eyes, so he wouldn't have to see any of it;shaking his head back and forth to try to will it all away. _"NO! _You're insane! I don't want to do any of that! If I do that, I'm not even human anymore! What makes me better than any other Spirit who manipulates humans?"

"You need to understand, to learn. In time, you will accept it." The Abdicator steps closer to Bolin, so close that he could feel his breath once more, and grazed his tongue along Bolin's cheek.

"I haven't had such fun in years," sang the twisted, degenerate piece of filth. "Oh, Number Twelve, we're going to have such a good time together with our New World…"

"Go to Hell," Bolin whispered contemptuously. "I'd rather go blind than join you."

The Abdicator blinked, looking a bit taken aback, before leering. Behind him, Korra and Mako were panting and sweating and looked scared and afraid. That scared Bolin more than anything: he could count on the fingers of one hand how many times he'd ever seen Korra as frightened as that, let alone Mako.

"Oh, you _will_ join me time. But," the Abdicator stated, and snapped his fingers, "if you must be so convinced...As you wish." The entire room disappeared and Bolin fell to his knees, rubbing his eyes, which felt like they were cemented shut. The harder he scratched at them, though, it seemed like he was making headway, but once he'd finally dug past the obscuring substance, Bolin opened his eyes, eager to tell the Abdicator that he'd beaten his little game. But he still couldn't see anything. Bolin's heart began to beat faster and faster. His hands were covered in a sticky substance that smelled horrible. He fought back the urge to vomit and failed, splattering puke all over the floor.

He'd dug out his own eyes.

A bone-shattering cry erupted from the very depths of his soul as a terrified Bolin desperately tried to curl into the fetal position. Sweat ran down his brow as he ran his fingers, unbidden, over the holes where his eyes had once been.

"NO!" he screeched. Somewhere in his agony, he heard Mako scream something, followed by Korra's muffled sobs and the Abdicator's one-noted laugh. And then _sight_, -beautiful, glorious- sight, returned.

Every inch of fear that Bolin had had instantly dissipated, crashing down onto the cold hard floor. He let out a long sigh of relief, taking in the cell, Korra and Mako, the ghosts all looking at him, even the Abdicator, who was laughing like this was the best mover he'd ever seen.

"Oh, Number Twelve," he practically crooned. "I don't think you should relax yet. There's plenty more to be done. Unless, of course..." he motioned with his arm to the crowd of transparent children, "you'd like to give them a little guidance. They don't seem to mind at all."

_"Master...! Master...!"_

Bolin ignored them and fixed his steely gaze on the Abdicator. "I'm ready for anything," Bolin said, fists clenched at his sides, because he really was. He was tired of running from this creep like a scared little child. He wasn't doing this for himself, Bolin realized. He was doing this for Nyla, sweet little Nyla who'd had her life ripped away from her so soon; for Kuzon, the little boy with so much to offer; for Ta Gee, and Ramishu, and Vatani, and Mie, and Chan, and every poor child who'd had the displeasure of being targeted by the Abdicator.

"I'm not afraid of you," he announced, surprising even himself, because even as his big brother and his best friend were chained up and obviously had been on the recipients of torture, even as he stood, panting and weak in front of the most dangerous individual since Amon, Bolin was surprised to find the absence of the fear he'd felt for so long.

The Abdicator's leer vanished, only to be replaced by something much more sinister and terrifying. "You should be," he intoned dangerously, through gritted teeth. "You have no idea who you're dealing with, Twelve."

"I know exactly who I'm dealing with," Bolin said slowly, straightening up and taking a deliberate step towards the Abdicator. "An insane, degenerate murderer who deserves to rot in Hell forever. Isn't that right, Abdicator?" He gritted his teeth and tilted his chin. "I will_ never join you_. Do your worst, you rotten weasel-snake. Do your worst."

With a roar that could've sent the walls of the prison tumbling down, the Abdicator threw his hands in the air with a sound like a sonic boom, blowing Bolin backwards into the wall with a crash.

"Bolin!" Mako screamed, fueling Bolin's resolve. He stood up, dizzily. Bolin's gaze wavered, but he did not fall. He glared at the Abdicator—who he currently saw three of, but he was pretty sure he had the right one—and spat a wad of red saliva at his feet.

"That all ya got?" he yelled tauntingly.

His captor's smile twisted. "You underestimate me, Number Twelve."

With a snap of his fingers, a foot-long, green writhing snake appeared, hissing and twisting, in the Abdicator's hands. "One nibble is enough to kill even a healthy individual," said the Abdicator, casually running a finger down its scaly back before throwing it. And then the creature launched itself from the Abdicator's hands and landed in Bolin's hair.

Full-on terror rocked him as Bolin collapsed to his knees, slapping desperately at his head as his assailant burrowed into his thick black curls. Bolin curled into the fetal position, screeching in terror and rolled wildly around the floor. He tried to grab ahold of it, but the slippery piece of shit kept eluding his fingers.

"Damnit, damnit, damnit!" Bolin yelled, and suddenly he was back at the pet store as a young fourteen-year-old earthbender, with lanky limbs and no hopes and dreams—except for a tiny fire ferret that was about to be fed to a pythonaconda. Like all good plans with good intentions, his had gone to hell as the pythonaconda squeezed around his neck, making him unable to breath. He scrabbled at his neck frantically but the snake did not budge. If anything, it kept squeezing tighter and _ohSpiritsIneedair…_

His ears had started to ring and he'd begun to feel as if he'd fallen down and down a long, spiraling tunnel when the pressure released, and Bolin inhaled deeply, so deeply he was afraid he would pass out from the breath. Thank the Spirits, he thought, and tried to tune back in to the conversation around him. Mako's voice was the first thing he heard.

"Bo? Bolin, Bo, tell me you're okay, oh Spirits, please, please…" His voice was so full of panic, a deaf person could hear it. Bolin wanted nothing more than to comfort his older brother (and Korra, who had begun to whimper, tears welling up in her eyes), but he found himself unable to move or twitch or blink…_Spirits, please don't tell me I'm paralyzed…please, please, please…_

The Abdicator strolled over to Bolin, looming over his body. He kicked his already-cracked ribs with a boot, smiling as he screamed. "Poor Bolin." He took the knife out of his pocket and examined it closely. "If only you'd have played nice. Don't you know that cheaters never win?"

Bolin's eyes widened in fear from his crumpled position on the floor. No, this couldn't be happening! His vision couldn't come true!

"_N-no..."_

"Oh, yes."

And as if to punctuate his eerie statement, the Abdicator threw the knife at Mako.

Bolin could only watch as the knife sliced through the air, Korra's screams filling the room—along with his own.

"NOOOOOO!" Bolin roared, and then the knife _stopped_ and began to flicker and twist in midair, almost a foot from Mako , who looked like he wanted to pass out.

The Abdicator looked bemused. "What—no. No!" He flicked his hands in the air, desperately trying to make the knife move forward, but it refused to move. "No!"

Korra was sweating and looked at Bolin like she'd never seen him before. "B-Bo...?"

Bolin opened his mouth to respond, but the symbols on his hands began to glow their sickly red, and what came out of his mouth was, "_She-na-ski-eth,_" and the knife exploded into shards of metal and plastic.

The Abdicator dropped to his knees. "No! No, that's not possible! No!"

"Bo—" breathed Mako. "Wh-what j-just happened?"

"I—I don't know," Bolin admitted in shock, rubbing his temples hard as a headache nearly knocked him down again. "M-Mako, I—I just…oh, Spirits, _ahh_—" he winced. "Spirits, it _hurts…"_

_"Bo!"_

"Willing spontaneous combustion," muttered the Abdicator like a drunk. "It can't be." As if in fright, all the ghosts vanished away at once.

"W-willing…what?" Bolin stammered. The headache grew stronger and stronger until he had to fight not to collapse onto his hands and knees. _Spirits, it hurts…oh, Spirits, damnit, it hurts…_

"Spontaneous combustion!" snapped the Abdicator, who now looked like he wanted to get away from Bolin as fast as possible. "You have the Power to blow things up with your mind."

Bolin had to fight to keep from vomiting on the floor. "Spirits," he whispered. "What else?"

"That changes things. You c-can't be allowed to live," the Abdicator said slowly, beginning to leer again. "Oh, Number Twelve, this will make it so much better."

"No." Bolin was surprised at how steady and serious his voice was. "This time, Abdicator,_ you're_ the victim." He snapped his hands at the Abdicator, who actually flinched and took a step back. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the flickering forms of Nyla and Kuzon, and he grinned.

_Thanks, guys_, he said in his mind.

_You're welcome_, said Nyla and Kuzon in unison, sounding so heartbreakingly young that it fueled his resolve.

"You," Bolin spoke slowly, "do not deserve this existence. You never shouldn't stolen the Spirit babies from the mother."

The Abdicator spluttered and turned a deep red. "N-no…how do—no."

"She was right to place the curse on you," said Bolin, having absolutely no idea where the words were coming from, but kept on talking. His eyes started blazing green once more. "You don't deserve to live. Humans and Spirits deserve to live together in harmony, not in fear of another. There is no better race. And so—"He paused, before giving the Abdicator a surprisingly similar leer of his own. "I abdicate you, Abdicator."

"No."

"_Shi-to-reph_," Bolin announced, and Nyla and Kuzon took up the chant. "_Ah-to-ni, shi-to-reph, ah-to-ni, shi-to-reph—"_

The symbol of Judgment forever etched on the Abdicator's face began to glow brighter and brighter, the skin around it burning and sizzling.

The Abdicator howled in agony. "No!"

"_Shi-to-reph, ah-to-ni, shi-to-reph,"_ Bolin intoned before snapping his hands at the Abdicator, "_Ah-to-ni!"_

The Abdicator glowed bright red, a horrible, piercing cry of agony echoing in the cell, and Bolin averted his eyes as the Abdicator exploded, his flesh flying in separate directions and sizzling into ashes before hitting the ground with an audible thud.

Bolin wobbled on legs too weak to stand. Nyla and Kuzon vanished. "Bo—Bolin," whispered Korra. "You—you did it! Oh, Spirits, you did it!"

"Bolin!" Mako said in alarm as Bolin began to sway. "What—what're you doing? Bo? Bo!"

"I t-think I'll sit down now..." Bolin slurred before collapsing to the ground in a dead faint, the cries of the Abdicator, Nyla, and Kuzon echoing in his mind.

* * *

_To be continued...:)_

_Hey, guys, don't worry! There is more to come! Hope this chapter wasn't anti-climactic...I hope it didn't disappoint anyone. D:_


End file.
